


A Court Bathed in Flowers

by MistressScimitar



Series: Courts [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: ACoTaR Universe Inspired, Alternate Universe - Fae, Bottom Han Jisung | Han, Explicit Sexual Content, Inspired by Dragon Age, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Time Skips, Top Lee Minho | Lee Know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 51,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24316804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressScimitar/pseuds/MistressScimitar
Summary: It is through a blossoming friendship born from curiosity and a bone-deep understanding of each other, between the young sons of the Spring Court and Night Court, that one heir questions the foundation of his Court and tries to overcome the history that is likely to repeat itself.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: Courts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755493
Comments: 14
Kudos: 67





	1. Introduction

In the world of Fae, the landscape is split into seven diverse Courts. The Seasonal Courts: Summer, Autumn, Winter and Spring; and the Solar Courts: Dawn, Day and Night. Ruled by a High Lord and/or High Lady, the Court system has been in place for many centuries, with those holding the highest power at the top.

After years of battling between the Courts, forcing different races and those alike into a violent war, a truce was made and put onto paper as the Treaty. Now every three years, those ruling each Court must meet one-on-one to discuss the terms of the treaty and also meet annually at the Grand Court Ball to show thanks to the Treaty, all in order to maintain peace for all.

But not all Courts are content with the way the world stands.

It is through a blossoming friendship born from curiosity and a bone-deep understanding of each other, between the young sons of the Spring Court and Night Court, that one heir questions the foundation of his Court and tries to overcome the history that is likely to repeat itself.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ
> 
> This is loosely based on the ACOTAR universe with reference to the Courts and the Fae setting, I have taken my own liberty with many details because otherwise it would be too much world to build and it has been a long time since I read the series anyway… There will be no inherent mating bonds in place, but my Fae have their own bonding ceremonies to be discussed at a later point.
> 
> This is part of a four-part Minsung work, but as you can see, the chapters will be very long, so if you can’t stand waiting for updates do NOT read this yet as I can assure you the next part is likely a few months out.
> 
> I also have storylines plotted for other Skz ships in this universe, hence why I have made this a series. (Edit: There have been minor changes to Part I in reference to bg ships)
> 
> Lastly, this will very likely be a mature or explicit fic. So please, if you're uncomfortable with sexual or violent topics please do not read.
> 
> If there’s anything else I’ve missed or that I’ve confused you about, let me know. Otherwise, enjoy this absolute monstrous vomit of words. This is just thousands upon thousands of words of minsung being hopelessly in love with each other with the illusion of plot
> 
> See you when I see you! ^-^
> 
> FYI, winnowing is the form of teleportation magic used by powerful Fae.
> 
> (Edit: I have added a final chapter so you can appreciate the fanart I received that helped build this world)


	2. Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Cypress to Signify Death

Minho’s first thoughts of the Spring Court were that it was warm, and he didn’t like the way the sweet air tickled his nose.

As the sole heir to the Night Court, his father had insisted on starting his political training early at the young age of seven. This entailed bringing him to all official meetings, on top of the already gruelling schooling of the Night Court, leaving the young boy both exhausted and itching for some fun. The young Lord was nothing but disinterested with the long discussions and endless paperwork associated with said meetings, but he wouldn’t dare say so to his father. He just wished he were able to see some of the flowers of the Spring Court he had read about before their arrival to the strange kingdom.

So, it was with a polite bow and small but meaningful thanks, after he had been shuffling back and forth on his feet for the past hour, that his father finally dismissed him from the room while he finalised the last of the court politics.

With his guard in tow, it was with great intrigue that Minho made his way out into the extensive garden surrounding the Spring Palace. Following the suggestion of the High Lord of the Spring Court, he decided to explore the extravagant garden that was situated safely within the outer palace walls until the meeting between the two High Lords adjourned.

Upon walking out into the garden, the first thing he was again hit with was the heat of the Spring Court. It wasn’t as stifling as the warmth that settled heavily in every inch of the Summer Court, but in the direct afternoon sun, it was an unfamiliar temperature compared to the crisp air that always fell upon the Night Court. He quickly shrugged off his blazer to help fight against the warmth of the harsh sun rays.

The second thing he again noted, was the heavy sweet scent in the air. His eyes immediately scanned the garden, taking in the many unfamiliar flowers all in bloom. Back in the Night Court, there was a limited selection of plants, meaning his own home – the Night Palace – was rather barren of extensive flora, instead, the people of Night Court bartered with gemstones and the stone walls he was so familiar with were embellished with art and radiant gems instead.

He gaped in wonder at the expanse of greenery sprawled out in front of him, extending well beyond what his child eyes could see. With a grin, he passed his blazer to his guard and took off with large strides to look at all the plants around him. The stoic Illyrian warrior as always kept a wide berth but watchful eye on the Night heir. Minho took the time to stop at each new plant, running his small hands over velvety petals and putting his nose to the bloomed flowers, a giggle falling off his lips at each new scent.

He had just rounded a large shrub, eyes wide in wonder at the large plant that had been worked into the shape of some sort of feline when his eyes fell onto another figure in the garden.

Sitting in a small grassy clearing was a young Fae boy – looking no older than Minho – surrounded by a collection of circular, multi-petaled pink flowers. Minho froze at the sight, taking the time to admire the boy’s plump round face, large round eyes, tan skin, and golden hair. His little fingers were working clumsily on some sort chain of the flowers, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth in concentration.

As if sensing he was being watched, the boy turned his head and finally noticed Minho’s presence. He quickly jumped up in surprise with a loud exclamation, only stumbling a bit before getting his scrawny feet under him.

“Who are you?!” The young Fae declared in a shaky voice, eyes wide with uncertainty as he looked Minho up and down,

Minho stood up straighter, remembering all his father’s teachings, he took a few steps into the clearing, “Lee Minho, heir to the Night Court.”

The answer barely registered before the boy asked his next question, “Why do you look like that?” His voice was still nervous, but he refused to look away from Minho’s face,

Minho bristled, “Why do _you_ look like that?” He returned, finally eyeing the dirt-stained pants and shirt the boy wore, he must have been the son of a groundskeeper or something, he certainly had no right to speak to a Lord so improperly,

“Whaddaya mean?” The boy waved his short arms, “You’re purple!”

“And?” Minho scoffed,

“It’s weird.”

The young Night heir folded his arms, huffing at the imprudent boy, “No, you’re the weird one. Back home most people look like me. I’m a Dark Fae.”

The little boy’s eyes widened at the mention of the race, and the cautious look was replaced with curiosity, “Are all Night Court people purple?”

Minho snorted, “No. I’m special. Purple runs in royal blood.”

The boy hummed, face full of wonder, “What about eyes? Are they always red?”

Minho shook his head again, “Sometimes, but it’s a pretty rare colour.”

The boy’s eyes then drifted up to the crown of Minho’s head, looking at the little deep violet points just starting to show from under his chestnut hair. “And the horns?”

“Everyone Dark Fae has them. Don’t you know anything?”

The boy pouted, “We don’t have Dark Fae here. Some Fae, but mostly High Fae.” The boy gestured to his ears.

Sure enough, Minho was finally close enough to see the definite point of the tip of the boy’s ears, marking him as a High Fae.

This new information did nothing to help him place this boy’s importance in the court because the prejudice between the races of Fae had ended during Chan’s ascendance – he’d learnt about it last week in history class. Under High Lord Chan, the law was erased that only High Fae and Dark Fae could rule while Fae were left as servants. So, this High Fae boy could still very likely be the son of one of the Spring Court’s servants.

The Fae boy looked past Minho, towards his guard still watching from the background, “What about him? He doesn’t have horns.”

“He’s Illyrian. Not a Dark Fae.”

“What’s that?”

Minho spluttered, “They’re warrior Fae. They have wings and tattoos and fight really well without magic. They’re so cool. Have you really not learnt about them?”

The boy shook his head, nervous and squirming under Minho’s scrutinising stare, pink flowers still in his hand. The boy eyed him one last time before blurting out, “You look scary. Are you a demon?”

Minho’s mouth dropped open in surprise before it turned down and formed a pout, thinking of the evil monsters he’d heard about in stories, nasty creatures who ripped you apart. He very much did not enjoy being likened to one, “I am not!”

“My brother taught me about them yesterday. He said the Night Court is filled with mean people. Are you mean?”

“No!” Minho shouted defensively,

The boy let out a relieved breath, “That’s good. I tricked the guards so I could play alone. Dad doesn’t like when I do that. I thought you were here to hurt me because I don’t do what he says.”

Minho shook his head forcefully, voice troubled, “I’m not mean. I don’t want to hurt people. That’s wrong.”

“Sorry,” The boy toed the ground, then smiled shyly at Minho, “Mum says my mouth works faster than my mind, I don’t know what that means, but she says it makes people upset. Did I make you upset?”

Minho nodded slowly, sad pout still on his face,

“I’m sorry,” The boy said again, “I have never seen someone from Night Court. I knew Younghyun was lying. A whole court can’t be mean.” He mumbled that last part to himself before looking up to Minho again, “I was just scared. No one in Spring Court is made of pretty colours like you.”

“Oh.” Minho was taken aback by the way the boy's brown eyes sparkled with interest again. He was also caught on the boy’s use of the word _pretty_. Before he could dwell on the word further the boy spoke again,

“Why are you here?”

“My father is meeting the High Lord of this Court. It was boring so he let me come outside.”

The boy nodded, noticing how Minho’s eyes kept straying down to the flowers in his hands. He held up the strand of pink flowers, “Did you wanna make one too?”

“What is it?”

“Flower crown!” The boy declared loudly, “Come on.” He moved back to the little pile of flowers on the ground behind him,

Minho walked a few steps forward, “I don’t know who you are. My dad says I should be careful around strangers, even with Tacyeon there.” He pointed back to the Illyrian,

“I’m Jisung!” The little boy smiled, a wide gummy smile and Minho noticed how his mouth curved into the shape of a heart. He patted the ground next to him, “Now we know each other.”

Minho quickly glanced back the see the Illyrian was still monitoring him and the other boy from a respectable distance, he nodded to the Night heir when they made eye contact, encouraging him to keep talking. Minho walked forwards a little unsure, the familiar name bouncing around in his head.

_Jisung._

It clicked. He remembered the Spring High Lord had said his youngest son was also called Jisung. He also said the boy loved the garden and spent as much of his day as possible running through it, so hopefully, Minho would enjoy it too.

Minho looked back over the boy’s dirty clothes, the oversized shirt and loose pants. The outfit was very different from the strict formal attire people working in his own court were forced to wear. He doubted this scruffy little kid with his messy golden hair was one of the heirs to the throne. But still . . .

“Are you a Lord?” He asked tactlessly, head cocked at the blond boy,

“Yeah.” Jisung nodded enthusiastically, “My mum and dad rule this court.”

Minho blinked in surprise.

“My brother is the first heir to the throne though. He’s a bit older than me. I just turned five last week.”

Minho took note that his initial suspicions were correct, and he was a couple of years older than the boy.

“Because of that, he’s too busy to play with me anymore.” Jisung explained, “And dad says it’s not safe to go outside the palace much, so I don’t get to play with a lot of kids.”

“Me either,” Minho admitted, coming closer until he could plop onto the ground a few feet away from Jisung, “I get to play with Changbin a bit outside of training, but the Illyrians have to live in their camps until they complete the Blood Rite, so I don’t get to see him a lot.”

Jisung hummed to acknowledge he was listening, face flickering with confusions again, but choosing not to voice even more of his foolishness. His hands had gone back to focusing on connecting more of the pink flowers together.

“What are those?” Minho asked, pointing to a flower,

“Pink carnations,” Jisung answered, not looking up from the crown he was making, “My mum grew them for me.”

“Why?” Minho asked, confused. Despite thinking they were pretty, he deemed flowers rather useless, his father would never gift him such a pointless item.

“Mum says they-“ He cut himself off, nose scrunching as he thought for a moment, “She said they symbolise a mother’s love,” Jisung explained proudly, remembering exactly how she had taught it to him, “She says they’re very easy to grow when she thinks of me.”

“Symbolise?” Minho was still confused,

“Every single flower has a meaning to it.” Jisung smiled smugly, finally knowing something the other boy didn’t, “Do you not learn them in Night Court?”

Minho shook his head, “We don’t have a lot of flowers.”

“What does your mother give you then?” Jisung asked with genuine confusion in his voice,

“I don’t have a mum.” Minho explained, not entirely grasping what that meant at his age, but relaying what everyone told him when he asked about his own mother, “She got very sick when I was born. So, it’s just me and father.”

“Oh.” Jisung looked at him with as much understanding as a five-year-old could muster, “Then this one should be yours,” He held out the now finished pink crown, “My mum can give me them whenever, but you need mother’s love too.”

“I’ve never seen a flower crown before.” Minho admitted shyly, poking at the flowers outstretched to him, “What do I do with it?”

“You wear it of course!”

Then Jisung got up onto his knees and shuffled forward so he could help place the pink circle of flowers onto Minho’s head. The older boy watched in amazement as the pretty flowers fell into place atop his head, he couldn’t help giggling at the feel. He liked it. It made him feel pretty too.

When Jisung sat back on his heels, he looked up at Minho with a big smile on his face. They just sat there, grinning at each other for a moment before a loud, stern voice cut across the quiet garden.

“Lee Minho!”

The elder of the two boys jumped up, “Father is calling. I must go.” He brushed off his pants and looked towards the palace.

Jisung stood up too, a smile still wide across his face, “Goodbye. I hope we can play more next time.”

Minho smiled back at him as well, “I hope so too.”

Then he ran towards the direction of the voice, stopping by Tacyeon to put his blazer back on. When he reached his father, the man immediately gave him a strange look, “What are you wearing? Take those silly flowers off. You’re an heir, not a farmer.”

Minho faltered, having already forgotten about the beautiful crown on his head, “Yes, sir.” He quickly slipped it off. When his father’s back was turned, he shoved the flowers into the inner pocket of his blazer, rather than throwing them away. Then with no other distractions, the High Lord of the Night Court lead his subjects to the travel room where they would be able to winnow back to their home court. The young Lord was very careful as he returned to his room and slipped the delicate pink flowers out. He admired them once more before storing them safely away into his hidden box of trinkets.

***

When his father next winnowed them into the Spring Court, Minho was this time prepared for the pleasant but unfamiliar heat, but not the wide smiling face greeting him.

He recognised Jisung immediately.

Despite three years having passed, Minho now at the prideful age of ten, the younger boy looked like he hadn’t changed much at all. His cheeks were still as round as ever, and his eyes still carried a bright curiosity as he looked at the Night Court guests. His hair was still shining gold under the sunlight and complemented well the natural tan of his skin. Minho noticed his clothes, though just as comfortable and airy as last time, were clean and pressed compared to crumpled and coated in dirt. The polite – and likely dutifully ingrained just like Minho’s – smile on his face, widened in unmistakeable surprise and joy as his gaze drifted over to the Nigh heir, causing Minho’s formal smile to brighten considerably in return.

His thoughts briefly wandered back to his room in the Night Palace, where hidden away in a book were two pink carnations pressed between the pages. At the sight of the young heir who gave him the pretty gift, Jisung who seemed to radiate sun more than the Summer High Lord, Minho found himself hoping the overnight stay in this court would give him the opportunity to chat with this boy more.

While the two young heirs had been sending curious smiles to each other, the charming High Lord of the Spring Court greeted the newly arrived Night Court council, quickly introducing his two sons who would be also joining negotiations this time around.

At the mention of the other boy, Minho turned his sight to the teenager standing next to the Spring High Lord. He could see the resemblance in the family, only it was obvious the other son – Younghyun – was far more mature than his younger counterpart. He held himself with the more mature air that Minho was used to and recognised in himself.

With the greetings out of the way, the two parties ventured into the palace to begin negotiations. The heirs all stood silently behind their fathers, monitoring and learning – and stifling yawns – while the morning turned into evening. Every so often Minho’s gaze would drift from his father and the scrolls of parchment laid out on the council room table, to the boy standing to his right, and every so often he would catch the boy’s eyes looking back at him, not missing the way Jisung’s lips twisted upward before he quickly turned away.

Jisung made a nervous, playfully bubbling spring up in his stomach, and it made him remember what it was to be a kid again. Only to belatedly realise that we _was_ still a kid.

Dinner that night consisted of a magnificent feast. The table was spread with a wide range of delicacies fit for the royal company. Minho spent more time inspecting the decorations than the food though, spaced throughout the large dining table were a collection of vases holding many different types of flowers. He recognised the main flower featured, violets, and wondered if the choice was in commemoration of the Night Court, his eyes flicking between the likeness of his own skin and the soft petals.

With his gaze following the different flowers, Minho missed the curious eyes whose attention he had once again captured. Jisung was marvelling at the heir to the Night Court with unabashed interest, just as bemused as he was last time, but too nervous to strike up conversation with the older boy amongst the crowded dinner party.

His interest in the other young Lord was noticed by someone else though.

“Lord Minho,”

Minho was snapped out of his study of a flower he didn’t recognise when his name was called from across the table, he looked up to meet familiar large round eyes in that of the Spring High Lady. The woman was beautiful, he knew this much. She had the same shining blond hair as her youngest son, to also match the likeness in their eyes. Although, where Jisung’s face was rounded like his father’s, her face was slim and regal. He was immediately daunted being addressed by the woman, but when she smiled, he could see the same heart shape in her mouth that he was so fond of in Jisung. He instantly felt soothed by the warmth she radiated.

“High Lady,” He nodded his head politely at her,

“It’d be a shame if you came all the way here and didn’t get to the see the garden, my son told me you barely had a chance to enjoy the wonders of this Court on your last visit. Is this true?”

He nodded timidly again,

“Then, in that case, I think I could talk my husband into letting our youngest out of his responsibility for one day to show you around. Isn’t that right, darling?”

“You say this as if you don’t run most of this Court,” The Spring Lord who had turned towards the conversation laughed heartily. He then faced the Night High Lord, “What do you say? Do you think young Lord Minho can be spared from tomorrows meetings to experience the Spring Court for himself?”

The mentioned High Lord looked a little warily at his son, the boy looking up at his father with begging eyes.

“I promise the Spring Guard will be on high alert, making sure they don’t reach the palace walls, and you may send your son with as many Illyrians as you think required.”

“Very well.” The Night Lord relented with a sigh, “I guess it would be good to build connections with the younger generations.”

The Spring Lord clapped his hands together, “Splendid then. Now let’s bring out dessert.”

Minho made eye contact with Jisung and both of them split into wide grins. The elder of the two Spring heirs whined about having to attend meetings while his brother got to play but was quickly chided by his mother, the woman still smiling at her accomplishment.

*

It was after a late breakfast the next day that the two boys – and a distantly watching Taecyeon – finally slipped out of the palace and back into the garden they both loved so much. Jisung was quick to grab Minho’s wrist and drag him through the trees and shrubbery, showing the older Fae all his favourite spots. They spent a lot of time down in a back corner where a tall tree stood, tied to one of its thick lower branches was a sturdy swing, the boys taking turns to see who could swing higher – Minho won, even if his legs wobbled when he came back down from the height. The younger boy also pointed out his favourite flower currently, the Chocolate Cosmos. Jisung explained that they were hard to grow, but his mum was very powerful and was able to sprout a patch of the rich, chocolate smelling plants.

Minho spent the whole day in a mix of wonder and delight. Everything about the Spring heir and his carefree demeanour, along with the sunlit, radiant colours of the Spring Court, was so different from what he was used to back at his home. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way the sun settled on his skin and the way Jisung’s smile made his heart flutter – and he didn’t quite understand what that meant, but he hoped he wouldn’t ever get used to the feeling, he liked the way it made his mind light and his body airy.

After a picnic lunch of fruit, vegetables, and cold meat that the maids brought them, Minho came to the unfortunate realisation that it’d be time to go soon. He felt heavy now that the day was almost over, but he was too happy he was able to spend it outside in the heat, even if it made his long dress shirt stick to his skin as he worked up a sweat chasing the younger boy.

“Minho!” Jisung exclaimed suddenly, slamming to a halt and causing the older boy who had been following him closely to trip into his back as he tried to slow down in time. Unphased by the larger body thumping into his back, Jisung continued, “You gotta see what I can do now!”

The younger boy quickly veered to his left, grabbed Minho’s wrist, and pulled him towards a part of the garden they had yet to visit. Minho cocked his head in confusion as they walked into a strange patch of plants. Every inch of the garden they had seen so far had been perfectly designed and manicured creating a beautiful image of a variety of flora. The new place though seemed rough and rushed and experimental. Flowers and low shrubs were scattered around the area, some looking wilted and others outright dead, no obvious pattern to their spread.

“What is this place?”

“This is where we practice,” Jisung explained as he stepped his way around a patch of pink carnations – Minho easily recognised the flowers – to find a clear patch of ground, “Ready?”

“For what?”

Minho didn’t get an answer. Instead, he just stopped to watch in confusion as Jisung stared in concentration at the ground, his palm outstretched. Quickly, his confusion turned into amazement as before his eyes a stem shot up from the ground and turned into a thin trunk before exploding out in a series of branches, each containing leaves and an unbelievable number of flower clusters. Minho was stunned, mouth hanging open as he looked at the newly sprouted small tree. The flowers it carried were small and white, five round petals around a yellow stigma and pink anthers – Minho had read up on the structure of flowers since he’d received his delicate pink crown last time.

Once the tree had finished sprouting, Jisung lowered his hand and turned to Minho with a gummy smile on his face, not a sign of exhaustion at his accomplishment, besides a small huff to his breath. This amazed and disturbed Minho because his training seemed to be going far slower, he still had only mastered the basics of his power and he was two years older than this boy. Still, his amazement outweighed his jealousy.

“Wow! That’s so cool!” Minho came closer to look at the small tree, then at the mismatch of plants around them, “Did you make all of these?”

“Most of them, Younghyun grew some, but it’s a lot harder for him.”

That knowledge surprised Minho further because if that was true, Jisung was more powerful than his brother, which was unusual but not unheard of for the bulk of the High power to skip the oldest child. If it continued that way, Jisung would become High Lord over his sibling despite being younger. Minho was thankful he had no siblings of his own to battle for the crown, especially with how slow his training was going, he’d surely be the weakest.

Minho gingerly poked the plant, it was solid under his touch, his curiosity peaked, “What else can you do?”

“Hmmm, not much yet. Mum has me growing plants mostly, but I can do this.”

Jisung walked over to a dead shrub and touched a leaf, the brown leaf suddenly sprung to life, unfurling, and colouring back to green. This change bled throughout the plant until half of it had returned back to life, but Jisung pulled away with a groan.

“It’s easier to make my own,” He explained, out of breath, “Than trying to heal something that’s not mine.”

“Younghyun grew that one?”

Jisung nodded.

“And your mum grew the rest of the garden?”

“Most of it. Some were here before her rule though. She’s so cool. She can grow hundreds of plants at a time. And one day she says I’ll be able to do that too.”

Minho knew High Ladies were powerful, but without his own mother around it was more difficult to picture. After what he’d just seen from Jisung though, he didn’t doubt it. “What can your father do?”

Jisung flopped to the ground under his little new tree, “He’s the one that taught he how to heal. But I’m not as good at that yet.”

Minho joined him on the grass, feeling a bit of guilt in the comfort he experienced knowing the young Spring heir was struggling with some of his training too.

“What can you do?” Jisung turned to him with inquisitive eyes,

Minho deflated, “Not a lot, I can’t do cool tricks like you yet.”

“That’s okay. You can show me next time you see me.”

“Next time?”

“We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

Minho’s eyes widened, and his voice rose a few octaves higher when he questioned, “We are?”

“Yeah! That’s why I grew this.” Jisung jabbed a little finger at his plant, “It’s a pear tree. Mum taught me that the blossoms are supposed to bring lasting friendship. So now,” He plucked off a cluster of the flowers and handed them to Minho, “We’re going to be friends forever.”

Minho felt his ears growing warm, shyly holding out a hand for Jisung to drop the plant onto.

“I haven’t had a friend before.” Jisung then whispered, uncharacteristically quiet, “I don’t like talking when there’s lots of strange people. And dad says it’s not safe for me to go to one of the Court schools anyway.”

Minho baulked at the confession, he may not have been able to hang around with a lot of kids his age, but he still had Changbin. He couldn’t believe that this loud boy who had called out to him and demanded they play so quickly found it hard to make friends. He couldn’t imagine how lonely it would be. He knew Jisung had a brother, but Younghyun was at the age where he had to put all his focus into his studies, just in the last day he’d seen the older boy brush off his little brother multiple times with guilt in his eyes.

Minho turned his eyes up from the delicate white flowers resting on his palm to the boy in front of him. Jisung looked nervous behind his faux calm exterior, his eyes wary as he waited for Minho to say something back.

Pushing through the heat burning right to the pointed tips of his ears, Minho smiled genuinely at the other boy, “Let’s be friends forever then.”

Then he tucked the flowers immediately into his jacket pocket for safekeeping, knowing just where to put them when he got home, this time careful to avoid his father’s judgment.

***

By the next triennial visit to Spring Court, the Night High Lord was prepared for his newly teenage son to come along with more interest in spending time with his friend than the formal meetings that would occur.

Since his last visit to the Spring Court three years ago, Jisung’s mother had coined together the idea to keep the boys in contact through hand-written letters. Minho’s father agreed because he valued the proposal of his heir building deep connections with a Lord in a seasonal court, but he did find himself scolding his son more often than not for the amount of time he put into contacting the young Spring heir. Despite only being able to see each other face-to-face twice since the last visit, both now able to attend the Grand Court Ball – a magnificent end of year event that invited all high-standing members of each Court to party, the location changing each year in order that preordained all Courts had to host the Treaty commemoration event to help broker peace –, it meant they were able to maintain their friendship regardless of the distance between them through the written word – as long as Minho could understand what Jisung was trying to convey over the glaring spelling errors.

Being able to meet in the Spring Court garden was always yearned for though. So Jisung had decided that dragging Minho out into the back garden would be their ritual for every future visit. He barely got to speak to the Night heir at the last ball, so he wanted to steal Minho away and spend as much alone time as he could with his friend.

That’s how they came to be sitting pressed together under the shade of a willow while aimlessly twisting flowers together, one with deft fingers elegantly folding the plants into a fine circlet, while the other stumbled awkwardly trying to copy his friend again after so long, having not dared risk practising this delicate art at home for fear of his father’s criticism.

A pretty – if somewhat lopsided – crown of lavender already adorned Jisung’s head, the knots crooked from Minho’s flustered hands. The younger boy had sprouted a patch of the purple flowers saying they reminded him of Minho, both with the likeness in their colour and in the familiar, feminine, and sweet scent that cloyed to them both. Minho’s skin definitely looked a more lilac – light purple on the pink side – rather than lavender – light purple on the blue side – from the younger’s seemingly innocuous but to him jarring words. At the offhanded compliment, he definitely decided to continue using the lavender oil gift he’d received in his baths from then on.

When it was just the two of them, they had an unspoken agreement to not talk about their Courts and the duties they were locked into. They were too busy enjoying the brief moment they could just spend together as two boys, enjoying life and building flower crowns, not as heirs destined to rule power-hungry Courts, with a sharp edges hidden under a façade of polite smiles and small talk – at least, that’s what Minho felt about his Court.

There was comparable loneliness they recognised in each other, surrounded by people every day but never really getting close. Jisung had shared how he’d drifted further from his brother as the difference in their power became more pronounced, and Minho admitted he was drowning in his studies, finding less and less time to meet with Changbin outside of sparring.

The boys were so young, but already felt the pressure of what was expected of them crashing down in an overbearing weight. That weight was easier to carry when balanced over two shoulders though. The understanding that they were in it together bringing the boys closer despite all the distance and differences between them.

Minho found himself smiling fondly at the way Jisung had leant over and put his head onto his shoulder, fingers slowing where they were just finishing his flower crown, letting the warm afternoon breeze and comforting atmosphere of his friend ease him into slumber until the circlet of roses fell out of his deft fingers and onto the ground. Minho snorted as he looked down at his friend, the younger boy’s mouth hanging open unattractively, meaning the burgundy dress shirt Minho wore was very much in danger of being drooled upon. He didn’t move to push the younger off though, just settling himself more comfortably against the tree and picking up the fallen crown to move it safely to the side where it wouldn’t be crushed by Jisung’s wayward limbs.

He smiled at the thought of Jisung explaining that he wanted to make Minho a crown of yellow roses because the flower was another one to symbolise friendship. Then he chuckled quietly to himself when Jisung also admitted that it also served to signify jealousy, that’s why the Spring heir found it so effortless to grow because he was jealous how much Minho had been speaking about Changbin unconsciously in his ramblings about how he missed his Illyrian friend. Minho immediately consoled the younger boy that he missed Changbin dearly, but that the time he spent with Jisung was much more special. At that, the younger boy blushed and hurriedly went to work on the flower crown, missing the way Minho’s eyes followed the red that blossomed on his cheeks with interest.

Beaming at the finished crown, the yellow petals and green stems artfully twisted into a sturdy circlet, Minho decided to wear his new prize. Before he could set the flowers onto his head though, he hissed and jolted as his finger caught on one of the rose’s sharp thorns. The point cut into the soft skin of his index finger and drew a drop of blood. In his flinching, the crown flew off to the side and Jisung woke at the sharp movement of his pillow, a sleepy whine falling from his mouth.

His drowsy brown eyes widened at the sight of blood on Minho’s finger, the sleep quickly dropping from his features. “What happened?”

Minho pouted, sucking on the injured finger before sulking, “You made me a crown with thorns.”

Jisung glanced at the discarded roses and immediately felt guilty. He did have it in his power to grow the roses without thorns, but he hadn’t been thinking clearly, too happy to be with Minho again and too joyful at the idea of seeing Minho in another of his pretty flower crowns. “I’m sorry.”

“What if I put it on my head?! It could have cut me there too.”

Jisung’s lip trembled. He’d made Minho mad and could have hurt his friend even more. He felt the tell-tale heat of tears building in his eyes. “I-I’m sorry.”

Minho took one look at Jisung’s bleary eyes and felt his heart drop, immediately regretting his outburst, “It’s okay,” He quickly backpedalled, “Just hurts a bit.”

“It’s my fault though.”

“Don’t worry. I heal quickly.”

Jisung gasped suddenly, “I can help.”

The Spring heir thrust out his hand, gesturing for Minho to offer up his injured finger. Warily the older boy held out his arm, Jisung gingerly took his wrist and twisted his hand up so he could inspect the tiny cut. Very carefully Jisung ran his other hand over Minho’s, the same deep look of concentration on his face as when he grew plants, right down to his tongue poking out the side of his mouth.

Minho shivered at the sudden warm tingling that shot through his finger, the fuzzy sensation running along his nerves and up his arm. Just as quickly as they came, the sensations died down and Jisung pulled back. Minho stared in wonder at the blemish-free skin of his finger, no sight of the cut anymore.

“Better?” Jisung asked, sniffing deeply and rubbing at the lingering tears unshed from his eyes.

“Better.” Minho nodded, the surprise never leaving his eyes, “You can heal people now?”

“A bit.”

“You’re so amazing. I wish I were as good as you.”

“Stop it.” Jisung whined, “You’re way cooler than me and you haven’t even shown me what you can do yet.”

“Oh,” Minho sat up, “Want to see what I’ve learnt?”

Jisung’s nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah!”

Minho stood up and turned towards the pear tree Jisung had sprouted last time, it was bigger than what he usually practised on, but he was confident he could do it. He focused on the tree, feeling the components of the bark, the leaves, every little aspect down to the last atom. Then, with a sudden snap of his fingers and a burst of ash and water, the tree was gone.

Minho turned back to his friend with a wide grin on his face. _Misting_ was a skill unique to those from the Night Court and was only ever learnt by those holding the High power. His father had taught him that if he learnt to master this power, he would have no one to fear, and looking back at Jisung, he understood why.

It made people petrified.

Jisung was still sitting, frozen with his eyes blown wide in what was obviously fear, “W-what did you do?”

Minho’s smile faltered, his pride morphing into confusion, “I made it disappear.” He stepped back towards his friend but stopped when he watched Jisung flinch.

Jisung wasn’t dumb. He knew what misting was. He knew it was a power that the Night High Lord was never to use on any subject from other Courts under the strict terms of the Treaty, otherwise, he would be asking for war. Jisung also knew that it had been used in the past to end so many innocent lives in the blink of an eye. The magic was powerful and brutal. In every story he had heard, it had chilled him to his bone. But he’d never imagined he’d see it in person. He stared between his friend and the empty space where his tree – a reminder of their lasting friendship – had once stood.

“Why would you do that?”

“Y-you wanted to see what I learnt.”

“Why do you know how to do that?”

Minho blinked slowly, “It’s a Night Court skill, I was taught it.”

Right. Jisung took in the full image of his friend, his coloured skin, pointed horns and the red glow of his eyes. Sitting under the warm Spring Court sun it was easy to forget how worlds apart they were.

Minho sagged under the studying gaze of his friend. He was used to the thinly veiled disappointment from his father, but this was far worse. Jisung was looking at him like he didn’t recognise him.

“I’m sorry.” It was his turn to apologise. He knew that misting was something taboo in the other Courts, but he thought his friend would think it was cool. From the terror he felt from Jisung, the realisation hit that, of course, a boy who was life and light and could make flowers sprout from the ground would always tremble in fear and disgust under the power to destroy life without thought.

But Minho had thought.

He would never use such power on another person. Just the notion made his stomach turn.

“I just wanted to show you something cool,” He mumbled.

Jisung blinked back to reality. Looking at the defeated form of his friend toeing at the ground. His bottom lip was pulled between his teeth and shame was obvious on his features. Jisung felt his stomach twist in guilt. Yes, he was frightened. But he never wanted to degrade his friend for something he had no choice over. They were just two pawns locked into the Court system against their will. It was exciting and exhilarating knowing the world looked up to them and what they could do, but there was a level of freedom they would never be able to reach. Minho was just as chained to his power as Jisung was to his, and Jisung felt embarrassed for once again listening to those around him and believing unquestionably that misting was and would always be wrong and wielded by evil beings.

Jisung rose to his feet and stepped tentatively towards his friend, “It’s okay. I was just surprised is all. I told you that you were cool. Only powerful Fae can do something like… _that_.” His words trembled just a little, but the message still got across, “So you are awesome.”

“You really think so?” Minho kept his eyes on the ground, still feeling horrible for scaring his friend, “I destroyed your tree.”

“I can always grow more. Watch.”

The Spring heir closed the distance to his friend and grabbed Minho’s arm with one hand, offering a blindingly kind smile which Minho could not look away from. His other hand outstretched in front of him and his face turned serious as Minho felt the characteristic warmth of Jisung’s power flow to the surface.

“Arborvitae,” Jisung whispered, “ _Tree of life_.”

Minho watched with the usual amazement as tall but thin teardrop-shaped shrubs erupted into a circle around them.

“Mum taught me to grow them because we use the oil for pain relief. But they have a symbol too.”

Jisung slid his hand down Minho’s arm and linked their fingers together, the Night heir finally loosening the tightness of his muscles as Jisung squeezed his hand.

“Everlasting friendship.”

“Everlasting friendship?” Minho asked, breathless and ready to release the last of the tension in his chest,

Jisung nodded, eyes bright, “Between your ability to destroy stuff-” Minho groaned at the unflattering term for his power, “And my ability to heal and make stuff, we’ll be unstoppable.” He laughed nervously, “But maybe let’s avoid you doing that around me, just for a bit?”

Minho’s eyes held the stars as he looked so hopelessly and hopefully at his friend, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I won’t do it again.”

“Really, it’s okay. It’s a part of you and I like all of you, so even if it’s a little bit scary, I like that bit too.”

“Thank you.” Minho said so faintly Jisung barely heard it before he was pulled into a hug.

Before he could properly melt into the warmth of Minho’s arms around him, they heard the distant shouting of the Spring High Lord and Lady calling them back as business was about to start. As quick as it started, the hug was over and Jisung was left with the faint whiff of lavender lingering in the air as Minho straightened his shirt and took off towards the palace, his formal front back into place.

Jisung didn’t see Minho steal a sprig of the Arborvitae that he stashed away for safekeeping.

***

The first thing Jisung did when Minho finally stepped foot in the Spring Court again, was drag him out into the garden to show off his skills, having bragged in his last letter that he could now grow trees.

Whereas the first thing Minho did upon setting foot in the Spring Court was flush at the sensation of his friend’s hand on his skin and stumble over his feet as he realised that he thought the boy dragging him through the garden was beautiful.

Minho liked to think he was smart. No, he knew he was smart.

With years upon years of gruelling training under the ever-scrutinising eyes of his father, he was able to excel in all his studies, his physical combat and he had even started to grasp the full extent of his power.

So, at age sixteen, Minho was aware of a lot of things about the world.

Some truths he rather wished he’d stayed blind too.

But it was with a heavy heart that he came to understand that the Night Court had a dark history – no matter how his father tried to spin what the books taught in their favour – and that the stereotype of distrust following all Dark Fae came from that history of greed and bloodshed.

He knew that his Court still had a way to go before it reached the level of equality that he looked up to when visiting the Summer Court, still prospering under the legendary ruling of the High Lords Chan and Jeongin.

He knew that the Spring Court, Dawn Court and Day Court had all followed suit, the land, and people of those Courts all reaching a parallel harmony.

He knew that even the secluded Winter Court and cunning Autumn Court were far more advanced than his own Court in uniting all races of their people. His father’s pretence as an understanding ruler had started to waver in Minho’s eyes as the boy grew to look past the rose-tinted glasses he always wore when looking at the man that raised him. As the young Lord matured, he realised the legacy that he was being prepped to takeover wasn’t as ideal as he was reared to believe.

Facts like these were hard to swallow, taking him a long time to accept their grim nature as he dutifully followed his father through meeting after meeting.

Things like these he kept to himself. He couldn’t tell Changbin, the young warrior already having too much on his plate as he had to prove himself amongst the bigger Illyrians, and he couldn’t tell Jisung, no matter how much he wouldn’t to, because it would offset the delicate balance their friendship was built upon, where talk of the diplomacy of Courts was avoided at all costs.

Deep down, Minho also knew he never wanted to bring up a topic that would once again prove to Jisung, the boy that had trembled at the show of Night Court power, that all the senseless fear surrounding his race was not so senseless.

So, Minho did what he did best and kept that knowledge locked away, long since mastered the art of a polite smile to cover the unease gnawing away inside.

This new truth caught him just as off-guard though, crashing onto him so suddenly and yet so naturally, leaving a completely different feeling bubbling in his gut.

It was the undeniable recognition that the youngest Spring Court Lord, Han Jisung, was pretty.

Pretty like the diverse flowers he grew. The ones that sprouted from his fingertips. The ones that followed the Lord whenever he stepped into a room. The ones that bloomed just by being in his presence.

He was pretty like the flowers that sat in a circlet on his head, always a new type of flower and always twisted together by Minho’s clumsy hands.

Jisung was pretty in the way he shined, no matter what he wore, day or night, as his hair glowed that brilliant gold. Pretty in the plump, round shape of his bottom lip. Pretty in the way Minho just knew the years would treat him kindly, shedding the last of the over-roundness off his face and losing the leanness of his body until he matured into a handsome young man just like his brother had.

The truth that his friend was attractive was a surprise that Minho agreed with wholeheartedly, and he couldn’t understand how he had never considered it before.

Minutes after the initial shock, the realisation was still dancing at the forefront of his mind. He was sitting in the back corner of the Spring Court garden, surrounded by a new mismatch of plants, only this time they stood tall and proud instead of cautious and wilted as they had in the past. His eyes followed his friend closely as the younger boy focused on his current task.

Jisung seemed to radiate warm energy as he used his power, and the Night heir couldn’t figure out if he were seeing or feeling the magic from the younger boy. That glow always made peaceful warmth spread through his chest too. Something about Jisung’s magic made him feel safe and secure.

He guessed that was the perks of healing magic.

Once Jisung had finished proving to Minho that he could, in fact, now grow a full-sized tree, he turned to his friend with a bright and prideful smile on his face, the one that crinkled his eyes into crescents and made Minho smirk in return.

“See! I told you I could do it!”

“I never doubted you, Hannie.”

Jisung blushed. Minho had started to call him the endearing term when they bumped into each other last year at the Ball. He used it to taunt Jisung because he knew it made the younger boy flustered. It also helped if he could make Jisung flush bright red because when the boy was so focused on hiding his own pink cheeks, he didn’t notice the way Minho’s always darkened in his presence too.

The Night heir reached over and pinched one of Jisung’s pink cheeks, “My little sapling is growing so well!”

“Shut up.” Jisung shoved him away, further puffing up his cheeks in annoyance which only made Minho want to poke them further, “It’s not like you’ve shown me anything cool yet. The only thing you’ve told me that changed this year is that Changbin can now equal you in a fight and that your horns grew three centimetres.” The boy folded his arms, “I don’t even know what that means.”

Minho snorted at his friend, “It means I’m another step closer to becoming an adult and you’re still a sprout.” He then waggled his eyebrows, “And that my horns are large for my age.”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “Overcompensating for something surely,”

“You’re just jealous.” Minho taunted, “You wish you could have a taste of what I’ve got to offer.”

Jisung spluttered, unable to immediately find a witty response.

Over the past three years, Minho had emerged from within the strict shadow of his father, shedding the persona of the insecure and reserved young boy that Jisung had first befriended until he had blossomed into a confident and proud young man, attention-drawing whenever he was in the public eye.

Jisung could tell something had changed drastically for this transformation, a certain level of contempt on Minho’s face whenever he followed in his father’s footsteps. A derisive look in his eyes as he stood behind the Night High Lord at every meeting. Jisung didn’t like the implications of these findings, but to pry into his friend’s Court would go against everything they had built together. So, he stayed quiet, and let his mind mull over other things that bothered him.

Things that included the way the Fae girls looked at Minho at the balls – even if Jisung too had spent a long time fawning over the new piercings dotting his friend's ears, and the way he now swept his chestnut hair up off his forehead. Things like the way Minho’s eyes had looked back at them too, his own interest obvious when he thought no one else was watching. Jisung had seen the way Minho’s comments could make the girls flush and giggle. He didn’t like that seeing that made him feel jealous, and he absolutely hated that the same comments worked to make him flustered whenever turned on him too.

But safely hidden away in only Jisung’s company, the Spring heir could still see the caution behind Minho’s arrogance, the soft heart under his prideful, cold exterior that he had worked so hard to upkeep, and was happy that he was one of the only people able to experience the true Minho.

Finding his voice again, Jisung settled on a sarcastic retort, “Sure, whatever you say, demon.”

Minho pouted at the nickname, only slightly – maybe a lot – hurt about the fact that his friend didn’t want to fawn over his horns like the pretty – but not as pretty as Jisung – girl he met last week did. He knew it was meant in jeering, but he couldn’t help still feeling self-conscious about the reminder that he looked so different from Jisung. In his own Court, he knew he stood out in the best way, but besides the young Spring heir, he felt that where Jisung shone like the sun, he was the dark cloud blocking out that shine.

“Do you really think I look like a demon?”

“No,” Jisung admitted quickly, sensing the change in Minho’s mood, knowing exactly what fears haunted him, “I think you’re beautiful. I thought you were the first time we met. Even before I knew what the word meant.”

After a moment of silence, Minho uttered out a shy, “I think you’re beautiful too.”

Two faces flushed beet red under the harsh Spring sun, blaming the weather rather than the mess of emotions twisting disconcertingly and settling to be forgotten in the backs of their minds. For Minho was not as smart as he thought himself to be, and it would still be a long time before he would be able to pick apart the things he felt for the younger Lord. Even if the boy in question hadn’t even begun to consider what he himself yet felt towards the Night heir.

Once they’d shaken the awkward atmosphere, Minho leant over to tap the strange turquoise claw-shaped flowers hanging around Jisung’s neck, “You gonna tell me what these are?”

“Oh yeah! They’re Jade Vine! They’re really hard to grow, but I figured it out. Mum was so surprised when I brought one home last week, so now we’re trying to grow some the old-fashioned way. You have to make sure they stay warm, but not too warm and they’re really particular about the humidity. And I love the colour. And the shape. They’re so pretty, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” Minho laughed, eyes flicking between the odd-shaped but beautiful plant to the boy vibrating with enthusiasm, “They suit you well.”

“Really?” Jisung’s eyes grew into saucers,

“Definitely. You both look weird at a first glance and then become a major pain in the ass for anyone who tries to care for your elaborate needs.”

Jisung pouted, swatting his friend, “You mock, but this just further drives me into deciding it’s my favourite flower.”

“Give it a couple of weeks, you’ll get sick of how demanding they are soon.” Minho ruffled Jisung’s empty hair, missing the sight of a flower crown atop his head, but happy to be able to mess with the younger, “This is me speaking from experience.”

“Aye!” The younger shoved him away, “You say that as if you don’t keep coming back to see me.”

“Only because my father makes me come back,”

Jisung raised his eyebrows pointedly, “Uh-huh,”

“And he’s too stingy to host you guys at my Court.”

“I saw your Court two years ago. It wasn’t that impressive.”

Minho rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Don’t lie to me. You couldn’t keep your jaw off the floor.”

“That’s because you were serving cheesecake and for no other reason.” The Spring heir folded his arms in defiance,

“Sure thing, Hannie. Whatever you say.” Minho stood up and stretched out, knowing it’d be time to start the first meeting soon. A smirk decorated his face as he declared, “Besides, everyone already knows it’s you that likes me.”

“As if,” Jisung followed suit, elbowing his friend aside as he stomped towards the palace, “They all know that it’s you that hangs around me all the time.”

Minho dashed to catch up, his shoulder brushing with Jisung’s as he fell into stride with his friend, leaning into his space to pluck a single blossom from the Jade Vine and slipping it into his pocket, “I’m going to tell Changbin you said that. He’ll think it’s funny.”

“If Changbin even exists, all these Balls and I still haven’t met him.”

“You know the Illyrians can’t leave the training camps until they complete the Blood Rite.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes, “I know you’re a compulsive liar who enjoys making things up to watch people stumble over your shenanigans.”

“You know Fae can’t lie!”

“You know what I meant! It’s half the fun to you, seeing how you can twist the truth to your benefit.”

“Aww, come on,” Minho tossed his arm over Jisung’s shoulder, “I wouldn’t lie to my friend though. Gotta stay on your good side seeing as I am stuck with you forever, you said so yourself.”

“A terrible decision on my part,” Jisung deadpanned, “Past Jisung was an idiot.”

“Can’t say I see much difference in the current version- Ow!”

Minho was still rubbing his ribs as they reached the palace steps, although combat training wasn’t in Jisung’s current curriculum, he still packed a mean jab. Despite the pain, Minho had laughed heartily at the look of betrayal on Jisung’s face. The boy had just become too easy to tease the past couple of years, much to Minho’s entertainment. It’d probably come back to bite him, but he had to make the most of it while he could, fitting in as many prods as possible before his father caught him goofing off and reprimanded him.

It was the easiest way to keep his mind off the thoughts of his Court and the discontent he could feel brewing.

***

It was with some unfortunate news that a freshly eighteen-year-old Minho was once again to see his friend.

The High Lady of the Spring Court was dead.

This was unusual given her age and her power. The news had sent shockwaves throughout the land. Following which it had come to light that she had been harbouring a very rare and very fatal disease for a long time, one that not even her bonded and her plants could ward off the effects forever.

In commemoration of the Lady that everyone loved, a service would be held in her honour at the Spring Court two weeks after her passing.

Without ever knowing a mother of his own, Minho was unable to understand the grief Jisung and his family would be going through but thought he could at least come bearing an appropriate offering that the Spring heir would be sure to understand. Deep down he knew why this was so important to him, but it was not the time for the realisation of his feelings for his friend. So, he ignored the pointed and questioning stare from Changbin when he explained to his friend that he had two weeks to figure something special to give his friend. The Illyrian warrior rolled his eyes at his hopeless friend and suggested he give the Spring heir some flowers as _he loved that useless shit, didn’t he?_

Stumbling over his thanks, Minho dashed away from the training camps and into the heart of the Night Court. Through painstaking scouring of all the libraries at his possession, Minho was finally able to find a book bearing the answers he needed the night before the commemoration. Unfortunately, then came the next problem, putting his findings to use. He hoped the next morning would give him enough time to get what he needed.

Grumbling to himself about his foolish idea in the early hours of dawn, he stopped by the kitchen to grab a raw turkey leg before excusing himself from the palace and escaping deep into the surrounding forest in search of a Floral Sprite.

Returning from the forest with time to spare and the turkey leg traded for a beautiful bouquet of flowers, Minho’s smile was smug as he followed his father’s procession ready to travel to the Spring Court. The Night High Lord took one look at the flowers in Minho’s hand and upturned his eyes in obvious distaste, “If you’re going to wander around the slums at least take Taecyeon with you. The forests are still filled with lowly creatures.”

The heir simply strode past his disapproving father and took it upon himself to winnow to the Spring Court, grateful that he had finally mastered the skill to travel all the way to his friend’s Court without his father’s power to guide him.

Minho let the power gather within himself, tingling from the roots of hair down beyond his fingertips as he focused. One second, he was standing in the chill landing atop the Night Palace, and the next he had materialised amidst the fond warmth and sweet scent of the Spring Court.

Upon his arrival, his eyes sought every face in the room, but his head fell as Jisung was not awaiting in the winnow out-room as per usual. Tightening his grip on the flowers in his hold, Minho ignored the overwhelming pulse of power as his father winnowed in behind him, instead, following the gesture of one the Spring servants, directing them to the ceremony.

There was still an hour until the official service was set to begin, but most the High Lords and Ladies had already arrived with their respective council to mingle. The way of the High Courts was bloodthirsty, hidden behind polite greetings was ruthless hearts and the unspoken challenge to best everyone else. He knew it wasn’t the true nature of the other High Lords and Ladies, having met most of them personally throughout his life, but the fighting of the lower Fae to obtain entry to a council meant there would always be some rivalry hidden behind the polite words shared, and any social misstep could end someone’s career.

The first people he noticed were the Summer High Lords Chan and Jeongin, the two of them always garnering a crowd wherever they went. Minho never spoke with them much, opting to avoid the high concentration of Fae all but kissing at their feet, but he always held a certain level of fascination about their dynamic. It was easy to see why everyone loved them, even without Chan’s power, he had that personality that drew people to him, and he had a way about him that was commanding despite his bright dimpled smile. Jeongin was always more reserved, but his young face and bright smile always attracted a crowd too. MInho always felt nervous around the trickster High Lord, Jeongin’s fox-like eyes always twinkled with a flame just waiting to be let out, and he didn’t want to see what would happen when the right spark set him off. If you only watched Chan though, you could easily see how his eyes always followed his bonded with unrivalled adoration.

Jeongin always seemed to carry a dash of wariness too, and Minho couldn’t fault him for that, even after years, he imagined it would always be daunting, being a spirit Fae surrounded by the overbearing magical power of High Fae no matter where he went. But that just served to garner them more attention. The land would never seem to settle over the idea of a High Lord – and a very power full High Fae at that – bonding himself with a seemingly powerless Fae commoner. All it took was for one to look at them though to see why it worked. The unwavering smile on Chan’s face, his pale skin and light hair offset by the mischievous eyes, tan skin and chocolate hair of his bonded. Minho had no doubt they were a gorgeous pair, inside and out.

As he moved through the room, he nodded at the blank eyes of the Winter High Lord, Kim Seungmin, looking bored of the festivities already. He couldn’t say he was close with the man, but the likeness in their personalities that kept them apart due to clashes also served to work as a common understanding for their shared dislike of royal matters. Seungmin always looked exhausted whenever they met as if simply existing in this world was too much for him. He wasn’t one to be messed with though, the chill around him working to remind people how easy it would be for him to take their energy for his own.

The High Lady of the Day Court and the High Lady and Lord of the Dawn Court were yet to be seen, but Minho’s eyes were determined to find one person in particular, so his mind was distracted, to say the least. The Night Lord continued to nod his way through the crowd, giving polite greetings and bows to the various council members he encountered in his path, dodging those that tried to capture his attention for more than a second.

Eventually, his eyes set onto the Spring High Lord, the man still glowed with power as always, but when Minho looked closer, he could the dim set to his eyes. He approached the man with a deep bow, offering sincere condolences for his loss. He always had admired the rulers of the Spring Court, how could he not adore the people who had brought Jisung into the world and raised him into the confident and carefree captivating man he was. Minho especially had a soft spot for the Spring High Lady; how she never failed to dote on him like her own children, how she would always laugh at the antics of him and Jisung when the Night High Lord’s back was turned and how she would always look at him with that same sombre understanding in her eyes that often echoed in Jisung’s. He’d always been more formal with the Spring High Lord than with his bonded, but still held great respect for the man.

“Lord Minho, I’m glad you could make it,” The Spring High Lord regarded him with a polite smile, the effort not reaching his eyes although the words rang true,

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Minho said sincerely, but his eyes still lingered over the High Lord’s shoulder, searching the crowd for someone else,

“Jisung is in his quarters,” The High Lord said with a touch of mirth in his voice, “I gave him the day off from socialising until the service. You may visit him if you like, I’ll have a servant show you the way.”

Minho faltered at the way the man had called him out so easily, stumbling over his words, “T-thank you.” He once again fiddled nervously with the flowers in his crushing grip,

The Spring High Lord followed the movement with his eyes, a softer, knowing smile adorning his face, “Jisung will love them,” The man hummed, a finger reaching out to brush the petals, “Aloe and cypress. They’re very thoughtful.” He looked pensively at the flowers for a moment, Minho stayed quiet under the weight of the man’s words, “You’ve always been a good friend to Jisung, and I’ve watched you grow into such a fine young man.” The High Lord clapped a hand on his shoulder while gesturing for a servant to come their way, explaining where the young Fae was to lead Minho. With one last look into the Night heir’s eyes, the High Lord said warmly, “I’m sorry I ever had reservations. Always listen to your bonded, no matter what you think, they always know best. The Spring Lady knew it long before I, but I understand now. And I have no doubt you’ll take good care of my son.”

Then Minho was being whisked away, out of the grand room holding all the royals and up many twisting staircases into another wing of the palace. Minho followed the young Fae silently while his mind pondered the man’s words. Of course, he would take care of Jisung. He was one of his closest friends. But he couldn’t halt the feeling that the Spring High Lord’s words had a deeper meaning he couldn’t decipher.

The young Fae stopped in front of a set of broad, pine wooden doors. The girl knocked on the wood delicately and announced his arrival, “The Lord of Night, Minho is here to seek your presence.”

There was silence for a few moments before a lock clicked and the door opened, Jisung’s face appeared, looking… tired. “Thank you,” He addressed the girl, his eyes flicking to the man behind her with a playful sneer, but the words came out lifeless compared to his usual humour “But there’s no need to be so formal for this demon.”

The girl flinched as Minho growled behind her, and he honestly felt a bit bad for startling the young Fae, but he couldn’t help the natural instinct to rise to Jisung’s challenge, “Says the boy in his pyjamas after midday,” He gestured to the oversized shirt and matching shorts the Spring heir was wearing,

There were two beats of silence, tension hanging heavy in the air before both boys broke into matching giggles – although Jisung’s were far more subdued compared to usual and the rise of his lips didn’t quite reach his eyes. The girl visibly relaxed before excusing herself and escaping from the two boys overpowering auras.

Jisung stepped back into his room, leaving the door open as an invitation for his friend to follow. Minho had never ventured into Jisung’s bedroom before, all their previous encounters in the Spring Court restricted to the garden, the council and dining rooms. He was both surprised and not to see the extravagance of Jisung’s room. The boy always had a flare to bite off more than he could chew.

To the right of the spacious room was a doorway he could see leading to an ensuite and a walk-in robe, the far wall was made of glass leading onto a balcony that overlooked the garden, and to the left stood a fourposter bed on a raised platform. He counted two chaise lounges and an insurmountable number of vases on tables and shelves and standalone, each holding a different plant. He was also not surprised to see the room was cluttered, clothing, parchment and other knick-knacks scattered on every surface. He could image the servants biting their tongue at the Spring Lord’s ability to make a mess.

Cautiously moving to the centre of the room, following behind his friend, he was startled by Jisung’s voice, “This is Felix,” Jisung explained and Minho finally saw where another young Fae boy was sitting on the unmade bed. He remembered the name from Jisung’s last letter a few months ago, explaining that he was being trained to run the Spring palace and would likely become an advisor due to his unique power as a mood maker – Minho was not sure what that meant yet, but his guess reasoned it would be a valuable skill to have on a council.

The boy had burnt red hair and to Minho’s surprise, an obvious lack of point to his ears – he wasn’t High Fae. On closer inspection, the boy had a cute button nose and a dusting of freckles on his face. He smiled politely at Minho, standing up to give him a proper bow despite both Jisung and Minho waving off the gesture. Felix’s eyes travelled between the two before he excused himself from the room. He explained he would go to fetch Jisung a small lunch before coming back to help him get ready for the ceremony, his eyes focusing on the flowers still in Minho’s hand as he passed him on his way out the door.

Without the younger boy there to distract them, the elephant in the room became obvious and Jisung still stood with his back to his friend, unable to face him just yet.

“Hannie-”

“Thank-”

They both started to speak at the same, quickly cutting themselves off.

“You go first,” Minho offered,

Reluctantly, Jisung turned to face his friend, but before he could finish his original sentence, his eyes landed on the bouquet in Minho’s hands. He hadn’t seen them at the door, but now the bundle of red flowers stood out against the black backdrop of his friend’s suit, highlighting the crimson of his eyes as well. He recognised them immediately, aloe and cypress for grief and sorrow. Jisung’s eyes doubled in size before his lip trembled and he rushed forwards to bury himself into Minho’s chest, letting his friend’s warmth and that tantalizing lavender scent envelop him.

Without a second of hesitation, Minho wrapped his arms around his younger friend, holding him tight while the boy sobbed. He whispered sweet nothings into his ear while running his free hand through the soft, messy strands of Jisung’s hair.

When his tears died down, Jisung pulled back and wiped his face with the sleeve of his t-shirt, accepting the flowers and looking up at his friend with adoring eyes, “How did you know?”

“A little bit of research,”

(Well, it was ten days of research, but Jisung didn’t need to know that)

“And how did you get them?”

“Floral Sprites.”

Jisung snorted, his voice still strained from his tears but his teasing tone returning, “You’re brave. Those little fuckers are horrible to work with.”

“It was worth it.”

Minho was looking at him with the utmost sincerity and care in his stare that Jisung baulked, shifting away and muttering to himself about finding a home for the flowers so that he didn’t have to deal with the way his heart was threatening to flutter out of his chest.

For someone of the Spring Court, it may not have seemed such a feat, their land flowing with flowers and the knowledge to go with them, but for someone of the Night Court to procure two plants that held such significance for his difficult time was nothing short of incredible to Jisung. Minho had certainly surprised him with the meaningful gift and his mind struggled to untangle the flood of emotions that rushed to the surface with it.

He distracted himself by pulling an empty vase from the corner of his room, disappearing into the bathroom for water before returning and setting the flowers on his bedside table. It gave him enough time to calm his racing heart and settle the flush of his cheeks before returning to Minho’s side. He gestured for the two of them to sit on one of the lounges, needing to rest his shaky legs.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Minho spoke up first,

Jisung kept his eyes downcast, the reason for Minho’s visit reaching the forefront of his mind again, but he was able to keep his tears back this time, “We knew it was coming,” Jisung admitted, “Younghyun had known for a while, and once she started deteriorating last year, she told me too. But it didn’t make it any easier.”

Minho stayed quiet, nodding solemnly even though Jisung wouldn’t see,

“My dad is pretending he’s okay, but I can see he’s not. Everyone’s heard the horror stories about what happens when you lose your bonded. I think it’s going to kill him too.”

Minho’s stomach dropped at the thought. Everyone _had_ heard the tales of the never-ending ache, the paranoia and then the emptiness that slowly drove you insane when your bonded died. It’s precisely why many were too afraid to ever commit so entirely to another being. He knew his father had never bonded to his mother before her passing and he wondered offhandedly if it was the only reason he was still here today while her memory faded from the Court.

“If there’s anything I can do to help…” Minho trailed off, unsure what else to say,

Jisung shook his head, “He may not look it, but dad is stubborn, he won’t ask for help and will just do what has to be done. I know he and mum had it all planned out anyway. He won’t tell us now, but I know everything has been laid out so whatever happens, the Spring Court will be okay.”

“That’s good. But are you okay?”

Jisung finally looked up at his friend at that and Minho felt his stomach flop when the afternoon sun caught the edges of Jisung’s blond hair, making his head glow with a golden halo. It was with that otherworldly image that Minho truly realised he’d never seen Jisung this way before. He’d seen the dirt-coated cheeky young boy grow into the confident and powerful young Lord, but hadn’t ever seen Jisung this vulnerable. The tousle in his hair, the crease in his pyjamas and the faint pink around his eyes made him look unbearably soft. Minho felt an overwhelming urge to wrap him in his arms again and steal him from the world, but he also felt an untimely desire to place his lips onto the honeyed skin.

He settled for placing his hand on top of Jisung’s that was between them.

“I will be.” The younger flipped his hand over so he could slot their fingers together, a sorrowful but determined smile on his face, “Thank you for being here today.”

“I’m sorry I can’t stay with you longer,”

Jisung nodded in empathy, “I understand, Courts wait for no one,”

It was something they both knew too well, but it didn’t make it any less painful, not knowing when they’d next be able to see each other. It just made each moment they could spend together that more important.

Minho found himself drinking up as many details as he could, committing this softer Jisung to his memory. Even if he knew it would help the feelings he’d been trying to quash to grow. But there was nothing he could do anymore, he’d long since resigned himself to the fact that Jisung would always own a part of him.

Jisung had been doing the same, raking his eyes over every piece of Minho he could. From the subtle curl at the tips of his horns, the chestnut shades in his dark hair, past the crimson hue of his irises and his strong nose until his eyes flicked down to the silver glinting from Minho’s neck. He was familiar with the many hoops and studs that frequently adorned the Night heir’s ears, and the chunky and sleek rings that glinted off his fingers, but he’d never seen the quarter moon necklace before.

His fingers reached up to play with the charm before he realised what he was doing, he noticed Minho freezing under his movement.

“It was my mother’s. I received it from my father this year upon becoming an adult.”

The metal was cool in Jisung’s touch, the little crescent so simple yet so elegant.

“It’s pretty,” Jisung concluded, “It suits you well.”

“How so?”

Jisung’s eyes didn’t move from the pendant, voice distance as he said, “Like the moon, you also shine brightly at night, strong and stable and taking people’s breath away so effortlessly.”

Before Minho could form a response, there was a knocking at the door and Felix slipped back into the room with a tray in his hand. His eyes found the two sitting off to the side on a lounge, both looking at him sheepishly and he immediately noted their connected hands, eyes briefly widening in surprise before narrowing.

Minho jumped up at Felix’s arrival, glancing at his watch quickly before announcing, “I better leave so you have time to get ready, I’ll try to see you before I go,”

Jisung nodded and watched as Minho said a quick goodbye to Felix before walking out the door. His heart longed to stop him, to call him back and keep Minho by his side for the rest of the day – or even for the rest of his life.

He didn’t though.

Staring at the closed door, Jisung was startled by the warm and wanting longing for Minho, his heart stumbled over itself in a startling excitement at his realisation.

A pointed cough drew his attention. With Felix standing there, lunch in hand, he snapped back to the unfortunate present and he cussed his heart for its regrettable timing. Of all the days…

After the commemoration, Jisung knew he needed to make a trip into the garden.

*

The ceremony was beautiful. It was worthy of the woman it honoured. Once the speeches were over and flowers rained upon them, it was time for everyone to say their farewells and venture back to their own Courts. The Night High Lord was hasty in his retreat, trying to push his son along, but the Night heir brushed his father off, saying he wished to say goodbye to his friend before returning home. With the always watching eyes of the crowd on them, the High Lord reluctantly told his son to be careful and to arrive home safely.

Quickly excusing himself from the crowd, Minho darted towards the back of the palace where he’d seen a short blond head of hair just minutes before, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. He lapped the room a couple of times before deciding to give up. He knew Jisung would likely have escaped into the garden, his only safe space and what was undoubtedly now under his care with his mother’s passing, or back into his room, and he didn’t think it was polite for him to demand to see his friend when he obviously wanted to be left alone.

With light steps, he made his way swiftly to the winnow room. His heart felt uneasy about leaving his friend without a goodbye, but there was nothing he could do, he’d just apologise in his next letter.

Just as he passed the threshold to the room, the sound of hurried footsteps and someone calling his name made him freeze. He turned to see Jisung running his way, in his usual disordered state unfit for a Lord, but so very Jisung that it immediately softened the burn in Minho’s chest.

Stumbling up to his friend, Jisung stopped to regain his breath, he had just sprinted all the way from the garden – a curse to the current wards that prevented him from winnowing within his own palace spoken under his breath.

“No goodbye?” Jisung bristled,

Minho instantly felt guilty, “I thought you wanted to be alone. You left the second I tried to find you,”

“I had to do something,” Jisung said evasively, “Besides, you haven’t taken a token from your time here,”

Minho twisted his head in question,

“A plant. You haven’t grabbed a plant to take home.”

Minho made a short, surprised sound and blushed, “You knew I did that?”

“I’m not blind,” Jisung rolled his eyes,

“Oh, I-I didn’t think it would be appropriate this time.”

And that was true. He didn’t think that day of all occasions would be the right time and place to add to his collection of keepsakes from his Spring Court visit.

Jisung shook his head in disagreement, “Nonsense. Here.”

In his upturned palm was a sprig of four-petaled flowers, the cluster forming a gorgeous cone of purple.

“It’s Common Lilac.”

Minho picked up the flowers and inspected them closely, an eyebrow rising as he asked, “What does it mean?”

Jisung’s sombre smile quivered nervously, “Nothing too important. I just… need you to have it.”

Minho’s brow furrowed, Jisung always – _always_ – prided himself on teaching Minho about the meaning of the flowers they shared, but he shrugged and accepted the flowers anyway.

“I’ll see you again soon, right?” Jisung asked bashfully, eyes darting away from Minho’s once he took the gift,

“Of course.” Minho laughed at the uncharacteristic shyness of his friend, “If you need anything, just send word and I’ll come.”

“You really mean that?”

“I’d be a horrible friend if I didn’t.”

“You’re more than just a friend Minho,” Jisung looked up at him with his large almond-eyes begging for understanding, “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know what you mean,” Minho chuckled and stepped back, brushing off the way his heart pulsed at Jisung’s words,

Jisung puffed out his hopeful cheeks and Minho sighed defeatedly at the way his heart jumped again,

“Sometimes you’re so cute and pure it hurts me. But yes, we’re friends forever, right?”

Jisung’s face fell quickly at Minho’s words, but the elder missed it as he played with the purple flowers. Jisung swallowed the lump from his throat before answering dully, “Right. _Friends_ forever.”

Then Minho took another step back and gave a two-finger salute before cradling the lilacs to his chest and winnowing back home.

***

Minho woke up and slid over to the side of his bed, his eyes falling on the beautiful bundle of dried purple flowers sitting in a jar on the bedside table. His mood instantly fell when he remembered the circumstance leading to him receiving the lilacs, but he couldn’t deny the flare of affection when he thought of the boy who had gifted them to him. Soon they’d be ready to frame along with the other plants he’d collected, if only he could find the resolve to move them from being the first thing he woke up to in the morning. He never found out what they symbolised, the meaning not in the meagre readings he found from his own Court, so he brushed the mystery off and assumed they were in reference to his skin, just like the lavender.

His eyes rose to the wall in front of him, to the various sized frames and the dried plants within them. His heart swelled again when he thought of the gift Jisung had given him for his last birthday. Then he let out an amused huff remembering the circumstances in which the present arrived.

The day just prior to his nineteenth birthday was the most daunted he had ever seen Changbin. The Illyrian had stumbled upon a lost Fae boy and his steed wandering aimlessly in the forest upon his morning flight, taking it upon himself to lead the poor freckled kid towards the Night Palace. There, Minho had laughed at the look on his face when introduced Felix, the new head of the Spring Palace, and explained that despite his looks, Felix could more than likely equal him in a fight. A still flabbergasted Changbin watched in disbelief as Felix removed a package from his Nuggalope and handed the gift – that would soon become the frames on his wall – to Minho, wishing him well for his birthday and sending apologies that the Jisung couldn’t bring them in person. Minho had talked briefly with Felix about why he had made the journey rather than getting another council member to winnow the gift and the Fae boy had explained he missed travelling and found this a good reason to briefly escape the confines of the Spring Palace – despite how much he loved his new job. Then Felix thanked the still gaping Changbin for his assistance, swung a leg back over his Battle Nug and started the journey back home.

Minho’s amused laugh at the memory must have awoken his guest because it was with a heavy heart that Minho recognised the tell-tale sound of sheets rustling as someone else awoke in the room. Turning back towards the middle of his bed, he saw the mop of blond hair attached to a body, with bare limbs poking out from beneath his sheets. Memories from the previous night came crashing back to him and the Night Lord felt that horrible mix of satisfied guilt wash over him upon meeting the bright blue eyes of the boy in his bed.

“Hey,” He called out softly,

The Fae boy stretched out like a cat and gave Minho a content grin. He sat up, ruffled his hair, and shuffled closer, pressing as much of his burning skin as possible to the Night heir before running his hands up the equally bare skin of Minho’s back.

“Morning,” The boy purred, resting his chin on Minho’s shoulder, closing his eyes, and nuzzling into the Night Lord’s neck.

Minho welcomed the body heat, letting it settle the waves of unease in his stomach. But then he felt even guiltier when he looked at the boy’s languid face, without those piercing blue eyes looking at him, he could almost pretend that the boy’s tan skin wasn’t a shade too pale, his face too slim and his ears too rounded.

Minho let out a defeated sigh and whispered, “I think it’s time for you to go.”

The boy hummed, pressing his lips to the skin on Minho’s neck, “You sure? I had a lot of fun last night, and I know you did too. How about we blow off some steam one last time?”

Teasing fingers reached up and scratched along one of Minho’s horns, causing the Night heir to let out an involuntary excited shiver, the sensation shooting pleasant tingles down his spine. The boy’s offer sounded easier than wallowing once again in the pity over all that he could never have. It was exactly why he had visited the town last night, dancing away all his worries without his father’s permission and under Taecyeon's disappointed stare until his interest had been captured by this boy, looking close enough to what he wanted under the moonlight that he accepted the other’s proposition and took him back to the palace just to spite his father.

Despite knowing he should really kick the boy out and start the process of grovelling to his father for forgiveness, he let the soft lips teasing up his neck break his resolve and he fell back onto the bed, closing his eyes and allowing the boy to lead from where he straddled Minho’s lap. Primitive feelings of pleasure once again clouded the longing in his mind until an eternity later, breathless and boneless and content, they both slipped back into another lazy slumber.

The slumber was short-lived though. Incessant knocking on the hardwood door to Minho’s room startled them both awake.

“Lord Minho,”

He recognised the light yet commanding voice of Soojin and called out to let her know he was listening,

“I suggest you make yourself presentable as soon the High Lord will request your presence ready for the arrival of the Spring council.”

“What?!” That jolted Minho out of bed, stumbling to put on some underwear. He stormed towards the door, throwing the lock and opening it so quickly the hinges groaned. Before him, stood the highest member of the Night council, Kim Soojin. What she lacked in height she more than made up for with her intelligence and power. The women had taught him a lot growing up, so it was easy from him to look past the sleek dark bob and an ever-present scowl on her face to the exceptionally loyal women underneath. “Why are they coming here?”

“It was a last-minute request from the Spring Court. The High Lord wanted to bring his negotiations forward this year as he’s growing weary and wants to have them settled for his sons.”

“Why was I not made aware of this before now?”

She tsk-ed, “The news came yesterday. Had you been home, you would have been told last night.” Then she gave a very pointed look into the room towards the bed and Minho immediately grew sheepish, pulling the door closed towards himself to hide the Fae boy, even though Soojin had clearly already seen him, giving him the same judgemental look she used to when he didn’t finish his reports on time. He imagined that was the closest he’d ever feel to disappointing a mother. “You’re a grown man now, you have as much right to do as you want as your father, but please don’t follow too closely in his footsteps. Think about how your actions could reflect back onto the Court.”

Minho nodded obediently, “I’m sorry for snapping at you,” The words were sincere, he really did like Soojin and was just flustered at the possibility that Jisung could have come to the palace and seen him in such a state. “I promise to be more considerate in the future. Thank you for coming to warn me.”

Accepting the apology, she gave him a farewell nod and disappeared down the hall, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

Closing the door behind him and leaning against it to let out a rattled sigh and calm the racing of his heart, Minho then turned towards the Fae boy who was now sitting up in bed, “It’s time to go.”

*

The Spring council arrived just after lunch.

Under his calm exterior, Minho was thrumming with excitement because this was likely to be the most time he’d ever be able to spend in the same Court as Jisung. The council planned to stay for a few days to sort out all the details as neither Court had the usual amount of time to prepare. Minho was already excited by the prospect of getting to show Jisung around his home, the negotiations between their two Courts always happened at the Spring Court due to the Night High Lord’s general distaste in having others in his palace, but apparently whatever exchange the Spring High Lord made was a sweet enough deal that Minho’s father welcomed the council with open arms.

Standing atop the Night Palace with the wards lowered to welcome the group, Minho’s eyes immediately locked onto a mop of blond hair when the bodies materialised onto the roof, a genuine smile on his face matched by the one on Jisung’s.

“Welcome,” The Night High Lord declared with open arms, "Come and let the servants show you to your rooms before we begin the talk of business.”

The Spring High Lord nodded in return to the greeting, Minho’s eyes drifted from his youngest son to the man just long enough to see that he looked far wearier compared to usual, but the power still rolling off him in waves was warning enough that he was still a High Lord.

As the procession left the roof to be introduced to the servants at their disposal while taking up residence in the guest quarters, Minho sidled up next to his friend, trying to keep his overjoyed grin off his face. Though they’d talked in letters since the Spring Lady’s ceremony, he hadn’t seen Jisung’s face in over six months. As with every other time, he was quickly enrapt by the warm round eyes and full cheeks, even if he could see the hard glint to Jisung’s eyes that had never been there in the past. They didn’t share a word as the council moved deeper into the palace, but once or twice their arms knocked in an unnoticeable show that they were just as aware of the other’s presence.

When they reached the floor for the royal family, Minho dismissed the servant who was set to settle Jisung into is room, suggesting the young Fae go help the High Lord or Lord Younghyun. Hesitating only a moment, the girl quickly nodded at her ruler before heading back down the hall and Minho quickly ushered Jisung into the room by a light hand on his elbow.

Once the door closed behind them, Jisung whipped around and threw his arms over his friend, “I missed you,” He declared, burrowing into Minho’s neck, breathing deeply the faint lavender on his skin,

Minho chuckled heartily, pulling the younger boy back so he could look into his eyes, “It’s good to see you too, Hannie. Your last letter said you’ve been good, but how are you doing, really?”

Jisung blinked his wide brown eyes a couple times, avoiding Minho’s scrutinising stare before replying, “I miss her, but I am doing better. Some days are just easier than others. But Younghyun and I have gotten as close as we used to be and Felix is always there by my side,” Minho tensed imperceptibly at that, “But I’ve missed you. A lot. I know we never really got to meet much before, but these past few months have felt like years since I’ve seen you.”

“I understand,” Minho hummed, “I’ve felt the same. Don’t worry though. I have a plan to make the most of our time here.”

“Ooh, just for me?”

“Shut up. It’s nothing too fancy. You didn’t give me a lot of time to prepare.”

“I’ll like it, whatever we do,” Jisung was fiddling with the long sleeves of his sweater, Minho’s gaze following the nervous fingers, “As long as I get to spend time with you.”

Minho blushed at the honest words and quickly brushed the moment off by actually showing Jisung around his room. Before the Night heir could open the door and lead them down to the council rooms where the first negotiation would be held, a hand on his sleeve stopped him.

“I have something for you,” Jisung said quietly,

Minho hummed in acknowledgement,

Jisung released Minho’s sleeve and held out his palm, the hand empty. Minho watched as a single five-petaled pale purple flower filled the empty space, darker violet lines running from the centre of the flower to the petal edges. “It’s a Mallow.”

The Night Lord gasped at the effortless show, the last he knew Jisung still needed the earth to grow his plants, there was splendour in all the magic Jisung could now easily perform, “It’s beautiful.”

Jisung grabbed one of Minho’s hands and rolled the flower onto it, “I’ve been growing a lot of them while thinking of you.”

“What does it mean?”

Jisung shook his head, a shy and teasing smile dancing on his lips, “It’s a secret.”

Then he pushed out the door and Minho was left to scramble after him, hastily tucking the pretty flower into his suit pocket.

*

Minho’s plan worked.

By plan, he meant getting up extra early and doing some ample grovelling to his father and a carefully worded request to the Spring High Lord to steal Jisung away from meetings so he could show the Spring heir the beauty of the Night Court, just as Jisung had shown Minho the beauty of the Spring Court when they were kids.

Minho was also quick to point out they were both incredibly powerful High Fae when both men agreed to the trip but tried to get the boys to each take a guard with them. They came to an agreement that one warrior must escort them. As per usual, Minho’s closest guard Taecyeon was tasked with following the two. Over the past decade, the boys had gotten used to Taecyeon's presence, and he had gotten used to making himself as unassuming as possible – a fact Minho constantly thanked him for as he often did forget he always had eyes on his back and was thankful that the Illyrian never discussed the things he saw to the Night High Lord.

With an uncharacteristically wide smile on his face, Minho all but skipped his way towards Jisung door later that morning, aware that the youngest Spring heir was known to be a late riser and would most definitely still be asleep despite Minho already being up and running around for a couple of hours. He’d passed Younghyun as he was making his way towards the council room with the other members of the Spring Court, so he knew the current floor was empty. This meant Minho was able to slam a fist into Jisung’s door and scream, “Yah, Han Jisung! Get your lazy ass up!”

He heard the tell-tale squeal as Jisung jolted awake from within the room and chuckled at his accomplishment. Then the door was being yanked open and a sleep ruffled – and very cutely swollen – face and head of blond hair were glowering at him.

“What is it, demon?”

Minho pushed his way inside, “I just came to tell you that you’ve been excused from council today to come and see the Night Court with me, but if you’d rather stay here, I’m sure Lord Younghyun would accompany me. He’s such a handsome man, it’d make me look good parading him on my arm around the Court.”

He saw the moment Jisung’s tired eyes widened and sparkled at the news, then narrowed into slits before he lunged forward to smack his friend. Minho laughed and ducked away, anticipating Jisung’s clumsy movements and easily dodging each punch while the Spring Lord cussed at him.

“You’re such an asshole maybe I don’t want to spend the day with you anyway,” Jisung harrumphed and folded his arms as Minho moved further and further from his swatting.

“Aww, come on, Hannie.” Minho’s voice was saccharine, “I think you polish up nice too. And just think how good I’d make you look having me on your arm.”

Jisung could feel his cheeks growing hot, he did very much like the idea of Minho on his arm, but he wasn’t going to let Minho know that. He opted to storm towards the adjoining bathroom to prepare for the day instead. He only moved three steps before he froze on the spot though, surprised at what he saw while facing the unmade bed. Minho stepped up beside him, head tilting in interest.

“They’re pretty,” Minho commented.

It was true. There was an emerald green vine filled with white flowers tangled over the headboard of the king-sized bed. Flowers that were definitely not there when Jisung went to sleep last night.

Jisung stepped closer, pulling one of the white velvety flowers from the vine, “Moonflower,” Jisung whispered to himself, “I should have known.”

“I like what you’ve done to decorate the place,” Minho stated as he threw himself onto the sole lounge chair, “But it’s a little much for two nights isn’t it?”

Jisung let out a deep sigh, “They weren’t intentional. Here,” He shoved the flower at Minho, “Might as well take one, it’s partly your fault anyway.”

“What?” Minho mumbled, fumbling with the Moonflower now in his hand, “Why’s it my fault? Since when did you grow plants without trying to?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jisung waved him off, pulling fresh clothing out and quickly changing the conversation, “So where are we going today?”

Minho let the flower topic drop, “So you do wanna come with me today?”

“Well, it’s either spend the day with you or your father. One of you makes my hair stand on end while the other makes me rethink the lines of the Treaty that says murder is illegal between Courts, tough choice but somehow you won.”

Minho grinned as Jisung disappeared into the bathroom, twirling the white flower between his fingers, “You’ve been dying to spend a whole day with me, don’t deny it. I’ve become quite irresistible in the Court.”

“You mean infuriating,” Jisung’s voice came mumbled through the closed door.

Minho laughed but didn’t call back, already thinking about the best order to show Jisung the Night Court. A few minutes later, when the Spring heir came out and looked much less sleep tousled, the two set upon their journey, collecting the imposing Illyrian guard on their way out the doors.

The morning was spent with the two playfully running about the city, banter and light-hearted shoves passed back and forth as they dipped between markets and cafes. Jisung insisted on trying every single Night Court delicacy along their path and Minho found himself gaping at Jisung’s figure, wondering how his waist stayed so slim despite the amount of food he could put away.

They received more than a few curious glances. Minho rarely ventured out during the daytime and he certainly never carried the same bright smile and boisterous laugh that radiated around him as he walked with the strange High Fae boy. Occasionally the Night people saw him goofing off with an Illyrian boy, but more often than not, Minho held the same cold air that his father did when he walked the streets, never rude but always distant and closed-off. It was a far cry from the joyful twist to his face as he guffawed at the High Fae with him stuffing his cheeks with tartlets.

Eventually the people of the Night Court recognised Jisung as the Spring heir and rushed to bow to him too. Both boys brushed off any reverence, wanting to blend in as much as possible, despite how impossible that would be for two Lords, especially when they showered each café visited with far overdone tips of gold, gemstones, and flowers. It was common knowledge that the two heirs were friends, but that didn’t make it any less astonishing to feel the overpowering magic of the two that seemed the radiate and intertwine together as they moved through the town.

Before long, it was already midday, and both boys were stuffed. Jisung wanted to find a nice corner to hide away in so he could rest and digest, but Minho was insistent, dragging him back towards the palace saying the best part was yet to come.

Jisung’s confusion only grew when Minho led them towards the stables where he pointed out two Dracolisks to the stable hand and came back over to Jisung while the Dark Fae boy saddled them up.

“I hope you know how to ride,” Minho grinned at him,

“I’ve never ridden a Dracolisk before,” Jisung admitted, admiring the sleek and shiny scales, far different from his Court’s preferred steed, “But I am ready to try it. Where are we taking them?”

“You have a friend of mine to meet. And you’re lucky. It’s a Saturday, which means tournament time.”

That explained nothing, but Jisung just shrugged and followed Minho outside with their now outfitted steeds.

“These are my babies,” Minho explained, taking the offered reigns from the stable hand. He stepped up to scratch under both the Dracolisks’ chins. The creatures let out content squawks at the attention, nuzzling into Minho for more. “I know, darlings, I’ve been neglecting you.”

Minho gave them both one more pat before he gestured for Jisung to come closer. The Spring Lord hesitantly approached, holding out his hand in front of a snout of sharp teeth, waiting for one of the creatures to smell him before following Minho’s lead and scratching under its chin. The Dracolisk let out a satisfied trill and Jisung giggled at the delighted sound.

“You’ll be on Soonie. He’s the eldest and most reliable, so he’ll follow well.”

Jisung nodded, stepping up to the beast Minho held steady for him and swung himself onto its back, once he was settled Minho passed him the reigns.

“I’ll be on Doongie. She’s a bit of a brat but I can’t blame her. I don’t spend nearly as much time with them as I should.” He quickly swung up, patting the solid muscle of her neck and cooing over how much of a good girl she was.

Jisung giggled again, amused at this new version of Minho. He liked it.

“It’ll take about thirty minutes at a trot to get there,” Minho explained as he led them towards the forest,

“What about Taecyeon?” Jisung asked upon realising the guard, still keeping a respectable distance as he watched them, had no mount,

Minho let out an amused snort, “He’s an Illyrian, Hannie. He’s going to fly.”

“Oh, right.” Jisung flushed, looking back towards the man, eyeing the very obvious wings on his back,

“If he really wanted to, his speed could beat us there. Now come on.” Minho clicked his tongue, digging in his heels and Doongie sped up to a trot, Jisung quickly followed suit and trailed after Minho into the forest.

The rustling of foliage and the chatter of unseen animals was the music for the first half of their journey, but as they went further into the woods Jisung could start to hear the distinct sounds of a crowd. The closer they got, the more obvious the cheers were until they stepped into what appeared to be some sort of outpost. There were clusters of cabins scattered around and most of the area had been cleared of trees, he saw a few tents set up and there was a large ring he could just make out through a crowd settled in wooden stands. There was a mix of Dark Fae, High Fae and Fae scattered in the crowd from what he could tell, but there was also a high number of Illyrians as well. It finally dawned on Jisung that Minho must have taken him to an Illyrian camp.

“We’re here to see Changbin?” Jisung exclaimed, eyes wide as he took in every detail. Gaze following the large winged bodies littered with tattoos and wearing a lot of dark leather,

“Yep. He’s completing his Blood Rite next week. If he passes, I’m going to take him on as my personal guard.”

“What’s this then?”

“Fun,” Minho laughed, dragging Jisung towards the crowd, “They run tournaments here every week as it’s the camp closest to the city. The sparring funds the Illyrians, they make money from people gambling on who will win each spar. I was going to come to visit Changbin to wish him luck next week, so figured I may as well show you the sparring pits while I’m here anyway.”

Jisung nodded along, even though half his attention was on the two bodies he could see battling it out between the gaps in the crowd.

They hopped off Soonie and Doongie and left them tied up with the other steeds, not before Minho pulled out some raw meat from a leather pouch Jisung hadn’t noticed he’d donned on and gave both the Dracolisks a treat.

Instead of leading them towards the ring, Minho took Jisung’s elbow and dragged him to a tent around the side. He explained that Changbin was fighting in the afternoon, so he’d be in the participant tent waiting. The tent they came to was massive, held up by multiple support beams and filled to the brim with Illyrian men and women sporting different amounts of leather and war paint. They drifted to the entrance where two warriors who were standing guard gave deep bows to the Night Lord. Jisung stayed behind Minho’s back in front of the intimidating tall men.

“Haven’t seen you here in a long time,” The first said, straight-faced as he eyed Minho,

“Yeah,” The other continued, “We missed seeing Binnie get his ass handed to him by a little Fae prince.”

Minho snorted, “We both know he’d be able to best me now, so it wouldn’t be a very fun match.”

“Would be for us, maybe we’d like to see you knocked down for once.”

Jisung edged closer to Minho at the mocking words, but the Night heir just laughed with them, “This is why I don’t come here anymore, it’s always a fight with you guys.”

“Not much else to do here besides fight or fuck,” The first shrugged, “And one just happens to pay.”

“We can see which one you prefer though,” The second chimed in provocatively, leaning around to get a better look at the blond High Fae lurking behind the Night heir, “He’s pretty.”

Minho barked out a sharp laugh, and stepped aside, “Yunho.” He pointed to the first one, “And Mingi.” He gestured to the second, “Please meet the Spring Lord Han Jisung.”

Both the Illyrians dropped the smug look on their faces and quickly dove into another bow. Once they righted themselves, Yunho glanced between them with a dropped jaw, the look on Mingi’s face matched, until he dared to utter, “You’re screwing a Spring Lord?”

Yunho quickly elbowed his partner in the stomach, but it was too late. Jisung flushed red and Minho spluttered, “He’s my friend! And he’s only seventeen!”

Mingi rubbed the forming bruise on his side, grumbling, “What? He’s legal.”

“And not deaf,” The still flustered Jisung piped up,

Minho rubbed his temples, “Just… Where is Changbin?”

Yunho jutted his chin at Mingi and the warrior nodded, stepping into the tent to find the boy. The awkward atmosphere didn’t diminish in his absence.

Yunho tried to reason Mingi’s logic, “Well, he does look like the boys you’re always seen with,”

“Boys?” Jisung squeaked,

“It’s nothing.” Minho quickly answered, shooting Yunho a very pointed glare.

“You made it!” A low and rough voice drawing closer called to them,

Relief washed over Minho when Mingi returned quickly with Changbin, the Night heir hurriedly grabbed the new Illyrian’s wrist.

“We’ll be off now. It was a pleasure to see you both, as always.” Minho deadpanned,

Mingi smiled widely, completely missing the sarcasm and happily waving the trio off, “Same here. Please bring your pretty friend next time too!”

Minho shook his head in exasperation and grabbed Jisung too, dragging both of them far from the tall Illyrians. Once they were a safe distance away, he released both their arms and turned towards his friends. Jisung finally took a moment to properly glance at Changbin, he certainly looked dark and imposing, but if he was being honest, Jisung expected someone a bit taller.

“Hi,” Jisung waved awkwardly,

“Hey,” Changbin nodded back,

That was all it took the break the ice, both of them bursting into chuckles at the obvious unsettled Minho. They snorted at the perturbed set to the Night heir’s face.

The next few hours they spent sitting atop a grandstand, watching the sparring pit, both Minho and Changbin educated Jisung on the different fighting techniques used and noting who had the best form. Between the fights, Jisung and Changbin seemed to get along well, much to Minho’s joy and then chagrin when they joined together to tease him. It never worked too well as Minho always had a stronger quip to bite back with, making whoever wasn’t his target laugh loudly.

Changbin’s fight came and went, and Jisung was impressed with the skill and power behind Changbin’s moves. Getting to know him, Jisung found his personality a far cry from his intimidating looks, but the talent he saw in the ring certainly lived up to the hype.

With the sun starting its descent, Jisung rubbed his arms and commented that the air held a chill he wasn’t used to. Minho wordlessly removed his blazer and dropped it over Jisung’s shoulders. Jisung didn’t notice the pink darkening Minho’s cheeks, too busy melting into the jacket and noting that the faint lavender trace of Minho lingered on his clothes too. It was Jisung’s favourite scent.

When the spars started to die down, Minho said it was time they head back. Wishing Changbin luck in his Blood Rite, they collected Soonie and Doongie and meandered back to the heart of the Night Court for their next helping of food.

Once they were overloaded with bags filled with sweet desserts, they had made their way up a short embankment that looked over one of the smaller city squares. A comfortable silence fell as they settled onto the grass and both devoured their treats. As darkness filled the sky and the stars started to peak out, Jisung finally believed the tales, the night sky was prettiest from within the Night Court. It was easy to ignore the chatter from the street below with sounds of crickets and the moonlight enveloping them, hiding them away from most prying eyes.

Bellies once again full, Jisung started to pluck nervously at the grass around them, glancing up at Minho then looking away.

After a couple of minutes of watching his restlessness from the corner of his eye, Minho called him out, “Stop the fidgeting. You’re twitching like a field mouse, it’s distracting.”

Jisung let the blade of grass between his fingers fall, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, “Sorry.”

Minho turned to his friend and, looking closer, did a double-take when he realised the grass Jisung was pulling from the ground was taller and had several ears on top. The unfamiliar grass formed a faint circle around the Spring Lord.

Jisung let out a deep sigh, catching Minho’s questioning eyes, “It’s Quaking-grass. For uneasy thoughts.”

“What are you uneasy about?” Minho asked carefully, still watching his friend closely,

“This.” Jisung gestured to the grass,

“You’re… upset about your magic?”

Jisung shook his head, picking up another stalk and pulling it apart, “No. I love what I can do… I just… I’m losing control of it,”

Minho shuffled closer so he could brush his shoulder against Jisung’s, he didn’t go further, letting Jisung move away if he needed space, “How so?”

“My father is dying.”

Minho jumped, he didn’t know what to respond to that, settling on a weak, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We knew it was coming.”

“But why is that affecting your power?”

“As he grows weaker, his power is starting to transfer to the next High Lord,”

“Oh... But, Younghyun?” Minho had noted from when they were kids that Jisung was more powerful than his brother, this confirmed it though,

Jisung just shook his head again, finally releasing the tension in his shoulders and sinking into Minho’s side, “That’s why we’ve gotten close again. He’s accepted that he won’t be the next High Lord and has decided to stay by my side and help me through the transition.”

Minho whistled in awe, Jisung was going to be the next Spring High Lord, and it seemed to be happening sooner rather than later.

“I’m not used to all this power yet. Sometimes if I’m not concentrating hard enough, my emotions run away with it and I sprout plants.”

Minho’s eyes drifted to the Quaking-grass, and he thought back to the beautiful Moonflower headboard, “As far as accidental powers go, that’s not so bad,”

“It’s still embarrassing though.” Jisung whined into Minho’s shoulder, “I literally just finished going through puberty-” The Night Lord let out an amused snort at that, “And now I gotta deal with more things popping up when I don’t want them to.”

Minho looked down at Jisung with an amused glint in his eyes,

“Shut up,”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“I could hear you thinking it,”

“Aww. Hannie is a little bit touchy tonight?” Minho cooed and wrapped a cautious arm around his friend,

Jisung let out a very disgruntled huff but didn’t fight the embrace, letting the teasing tone and the warmth encircling him settle his uneasiness, “So yeah. I’m going to be the next High Lord, but we all know I’m not ready. So, when the day comes, I will take up the mantle, but Younghyun will be the real one ruling. I’ll be more of a figurehead if anything.”

“Do you want to be a figurehead?”

Jisung took a moment to look up at the stars, hugging his knees tighter as he really pondered the question, “No. At least, not forever. I’m just scared. I don’t want to lose my dad. And I don’t want to ruin what he’s carefully built because I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s okay to be scared. I know I am just as afraid of becoming the High Lord here. But you said it yourself, Younghyun is there to help. He is a good man and a good brother. He will support you until you are ready, and then he will listen to you. And when the proper time comes, you’ll make an amazing High Lord.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” Minho finally took his eyes off the boy in his arm, too mesmerised by the constellations reflecting in his Jisung’s to appreciate the stars littering the sky. Tilting his head back, he joked, “And if they don’t listen to you, you’ve got a big bad Night Lord demon to make them reconsider.”

Jisung let out a genuine laugh, stealing a glance at the Night heir now that he couldn’t feel Minho’s eyes on him. He looked ethereal, shining faintly in the moonlight, and Jisung felt his heart surge once again with the force of emotion he felt for this man. He didn’t have the words to express that attachment and didn’t think he ever would. Instead, he said quietly, “Thanks, Min.”

Minho just hummed to acknowledge he had heard, his eyes never leaving the sky. Jisung shuffled around and rested his head on Minho’s shoulder, face tilted up too. In response, the Night heir wrapped his arm tighter around his friend, their eyes watching the spectacular night sky in peace.

After an eternity, Jisung spoke up again, “You’re wrong, you know?”

Minho grunted to show he was listening,

“The Illyrians were cool. But this is the best part.”

Minho didn’t know if Jisung was referring to the sky or something else, but he couldn’t help but agree. Sitting under the moonlight with Jisung pressed into his side was certainly his favourite part of the day too.

A deep, pointed cough from a distance away broke the peace and with a reluctant sigh, Minho recognised Taecyeon's subtle hint that it was very late, and they should head back to the palace. Brushing off his suit, Minho helped pull Jisung up before turning them towards the Night Palace.

*

On the last day, both heirs could not avoid the negotiations, spending all morning trapped in the windowless council rooms of the Night Court. Once all the business was finalised, all the guests from the Spring Court moved about to grab their belongings, eager to return home.

Minho managed to slip away from his father’s eye and sneak his way towards Jisung’s room, he was surprised when he entered the room to find Felix inside, the boy had only been winnowed in for this last day of talks. Both boys smiled and greeted each other while Jisung fluttered about, grabbing his clothing from where he had managed to spread pieces over the entire expanse of the room despite only being there for two nights.

After he had darted back and forth for five minutes while Felix and Minho made small talk, he finally seemed content with his work packing up his room and turned towards his friends. Jisung gave a cautious glance at Felix and the Fae boy quickly bid them farewell, saying he’d meet them on the rooftop.

“Thank you for yesterday,” Jisung began when they were alone, “I had a great time, and last night really helped me out.”

Minho just grinned warmly at his friend, “No need to thank me. I had a fun time too. It was nice getting to see you for more than an hour.”

“Yeah, I hope we can do it again soon.”

“I hope so too.”

They both shared timid smiles, unsure what else to say. Their normal goodbye seemed too simple this time around.

“Here,” Jisung eventually said, pulling out one last sprig of purple flowers,

Minho smirked at him, “Was this another premature burst?”

“No!” Jisung flushed and punched him, “I should have never told you about that. I’ll take this back if you don’t want it.”

“I want it,” Minho snatched the flowers before Jisung could move his hand back, “What are these?”

“Cloven-lip Toad-flax. I know, a bit of a mouthful. But they’re worth it.”

“You gonna tell me what it means?”

Jisung shook his head, the same bashful smile on his face as when he gave the Lilacs and the Mallow. Minho had brushed off the lack of information on the other flowers, but looking into Jisung’s eyes, he truly felt he was missing something, he would have to ask Felix what they meant, or if not, hope the meagre material in the books from the library would give him an answer this time.

“I feel like I’m missing the punchline to some joke, why won’t you tell me?”

Jisung shrugged, “Can’t hand you everything on a silver platter. You gotta work for it sometimes, demon.”

Minho’s eyes drifted down to the purple flowers. _What was he missing?_

With his bag packed, Minho escorted Jisung up to the roof ready to winnow home. While the wards were being lowered to allow travel, Minho managed to slip from Jisung’s side to instead corner Felix.

“Hey, Felix.”

The freckled boy turned at his name, “What can I help you with?”

“You’re from the Spring Court, right? So, you know what flowers mean?”

Felix nodded, not yet following Minho’s train of thought,

“Jisung gave me some flowers and he won’t tell me what they mean. I was hoping you could help.”

“I might be able to. What were they?”

Minho held up his hand, listing the four flowers on each finger, “Common Lilac, Mallow, Moonflower and today, Clovenlip Toad-flax.”

As he recalled each flower, Felix’s eyes grew wider and wider, “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

“What? Why?”

“If Jisung didn’t tell you it’s because he either doesn’t want you to know or wants you to figure it out yourself.”

“But that’s what I’m doing now,”

Felix shrugged, “I’m the easy option. I think you need to work harder than that.”

Minho harrumphed,

“Do you really not know what any of them mean?”

Minho shook his head, “No. I thought he just gave them to me because they reminded him of me and my Court.”

Felix gave him an incredulous look,

“What? They’re mostly purple and one of them only blooms at night!”

Felix let out a long sigh, “Because I actually like you and think you’re good for him, I’m going to let that slide. But this in on you to figure out.”

“Why do I feel like I’m on some elaborate treasure hunt?”

Felix glanced over Minho’s shoulder, seeing the procession was ready to leave, “Maybe you are. But if you complete it, you might like the prize at the end.”

Then he patted Minho’s shoulder and headed into the travel ring.

Sighing, Minho turned to see Jisung walking towards him, a teasing smile twisting his lips up, “I turned around and you were gone. You weren’t going to give me a proper goodbye again?”

“Sorry,” Minho swept into an exaggerated bow, “It was a pleasure having your attendance, Lord Jisung. Please come again as your presence is always welcome here at the Night Court.”

“Why thank you, Lord Minho.” Jisung folded into an equally overdone bow, “It was a pleasure visiting. Such a positively delightful stay, I must come back soon.”

With mirthful grins on their faces and their joyful laughter dying down, Jisung stepped back towards his people and took Felix’s arm so he could winnow them home. The last thing Minho saw was the hopeful glint to Jisung’s eye as the blond Lord waved goodbye.

*

Minho wanted to scream in frustration. The book he used to find out about the Aloe and Cypress was useless. It had nothing about any of the other flowers he currently had hanging upside down while they dried. His next hope was a little farfetched, but he didn’t have any other paths to pursue.

It had been two weeks since Jisung had returned home, and despite not finding out a single flower meaning, not all news was bad. Changbin had completed his Blood Rite and had officially applied to be Minho’s personal guard. With an honest smile on his face, Taecyeon said was happy to step down from his current role after a few hundred years of guarding the royal family, saying he was ready to retire into the mountains.

Being able to spend more time with his closest friend was a blessing, especially when Minho had mentioned off-hand his current problem to Changbin and the Illyrian suggested he should go to see The Fade. When Minho cocked his head at him, Changbin explained the legend of the travelling merchant. Baffled by the tale, Minho asked how he had never heard of him before and Changbin shrugged, saying royals weren’t usually in need of things like the common folk. Minho had pouted at that but listened to Changbin’s instructions to wander through the temporary market stalls that evening.

Minho felt a bit ridiculous as he walked through the markets right on the edge of town, not even knowing who or what he was looking for. A part of him thought this was too much effort to go to for some flowers, but a bigger part of him needed an answer to what Jisung was hinting. He thought the tale Changbin had spun about the merchant who turned up exactly when and where you were with exactly what you needed was a bit of a farce, but he really needed that sort of unbelievable possibility as not knowing what Jisung had been so cryptic in keeping from him had been eating him away.

His pockets filled with gold and gems, Minho circled the different tents and stalls twice before his gaze landed on a simple cream coloured tent. Standing in the entrance was a handsome High Fae male. He was tall and lean, his skin was pale in the evening light, contrasting with his ebony hair. Most striking, beyond his conventional handsome and sharp features, were his stunning silver eyes, a delicate mole sitting under the right side.

Taking a few steps closer, Minho lowered his voice and asked, “Are you The Fade?”

“Depends. What coins do you carry?”

“Enough to afford what I need. If you have it?”

The High Fae smiled, showing a set of perfect pearly-white teeth. He stood to the side and gestured for Minho to come into the tent, “Let me show you what I have to offer then.”

The inside of the tent was cluttered, Minho could see many unfamiliar herbs and trinkets scattered on the collapsible tables. The High Fae left him while gawked at a set of crystals that were faintly glowing to shuffle around in the back of the tent. Just as Minho was about to poke the crystal letting of faint pink light, the male returned and called out to him.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I was you.”

Minho snapped his hand back, a sheepish smile on his face at being caught. His eyes glanced down to the High Fae’s hands, he was holding an old leather-bound book. “Is that for me?”

The High Fae’s eyes glinted, “Do you have sixty gold coins, three rubies and two sapphires?”

Minho’s brows furrowed, “That’s a bit of an exuberant price for a book, is it not?”

“You’re right. For a beautiful gentleman such as yourself, I think I can lower it to forty gold coins and only the rubies.”

Minho hummed, doubtful. He knew it was all a show to make the sale, but he was unable to ignore the pleasant warmth that filled his chest at the compliment.

The High Fae grinned, it looked predatory, “I am a businessman after all. There’s no one quite like me. I promise that the book has the answers you need. So, you can pay the price, or you can keep wondering what a Common Lilac means.”

Minho faltered, eyes wide at the cocky display of information, the High Fae knew more than he should, and it made Minho a little wary, “How did you…?”

“I have a very unique skill set.” The male shrugged, “It would be a waste to not profit from it. Now, did you want to make the trade?”

Cautiously, Minho nodded and pulled out a bag of gold and gems, exchanging it with the High Fae. Counting out the gold pieces, another frighteningly bright smile appeared on the male’s face when he handed over the book, taking Minho and leading him out of the tent. Minho followed powerlessly, a little confused as he looked back as the male said, “Pleasure doing business with you.” For a moment there, Minho thought he saw the High Fae’s eyes glow.

The next thing he knew, he was walking back to the palace with a hazy mind. He found he couldn’t describe to Changbin what he’d just done, only that he was at the market and had received the book he required. Changbin seemed surprised and reminded Minho that he had gone to see The Fade. Over the next few minutes, as his mind cleared, Minho could not remember any details at all about the exchange. He concluded that The Fade must have had some sort of mind-altering powers, explaining how people knew of his existence but couldn’t ever describe who he was.

Only feeling moderately slighted at having unwanted magic used on him, Minho decided to let the incident slide because he finally had what he needed. Excusing himself from Changbin, he holed himself up at the desk in his room. Under the flickering candlelight, his fingers danced along the leathery spine before he opened the book.

It took a while to skim through the dusty pages, deciding to find the meanings in the chronological order Jisung gave the gifts to him. He thanked the higher beings that whoever wrote the book had the decency to list the flowers in alphabetical order. So, with excitement thrumming through his veins, first up was the bundle of purple flowers still sitting, dried in a jar, on his bedside table.

Minho held his breath as he read, there written in delicate text:

_The Common Lilac is often gifted to symbolise one’s first emotion of love._

The paragraph went on to talk more about the meaning of other lilac varieties, but Minho’s heart had already frozen in his chest, his mind working sluggishly to decipher the extent of what that could mean. With numb fingers, he hurriedly flipped through pages until he found other meanings he sought:

_Malva (Mallow) symbolises love, protection, and health. It is often given to show one’s feelings of being consumed by love…_

_…A vining Moonflower speaks of a beauty that only blossoms at night; I only dream of love._

And finally, with his heart now in his throat, Minho sought the last piece of the puzzle:

_The plants under the genera Toad-flax are used to represent hesitation, asking to treat one gently…_

_…Cloven-lip Toad-flax, in particular, takes this message further and is frequently used as a symbol of confession, wishing for one to please notice my love._

Minho’s heart gave a resounding thump, his pulse throbbing with the adrenaline running through his veins. One could have been a coincidence, but Minho was left sitting in awe at the four flowers that had been gifted by Jisung. There was no way to deny that the young Spring Lord had confessed his love for the Night heir, and at that discovery, Minho felt an unrestrained giddiness bubble up within him. He finally understood Felix’s incredulous look, Jisung had born his heart to him and Minho had just naively looked at the flowers and assumed nothing. Taking one more awestruck look at the book, Minho knew what had to be done.

Half an hour later, with a resigned sigh, Minho accepted the fact that he would have to once again venture out into the forest to visit the Floral Sprites. This time, on the hunt for a Rainflower.

The Night heir never thought his happiness would rest with a flower, but if the innocuous sketch of the plant on the page before him, and the inscription to go with it was true, this Rainflower would convey all he needed to Jisung.

Four little words.

_I love you back_.

*

Two days of painstakingly waiting for a response after he had sent his message, Minho never heard if his Rainflower reached Jisung. Instead, other disheartening news reached the Night Court first.

The Spring High Lord was dead.

Jisung’s father was dead.

That meant one thing only.

Han Jisung was the new High Lord of the Spring Court.

***


	3. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Purple Tulip for Royal Rebirth

Minho’s heart clenched painfully as he watched the white gold crown being placed gingerly atop Jisung’s head. The ever-present Spring Court sun reflected beautifully off the cold metal, and glittered off the embedded emeralds, making Jisung’s blond hair shine. The freshly coronated High Lord stood tall, looking over the cheering crowd with a bright smile on his face. Minho could see the way it didn’t reach his eyes.

He could feel that even with all the new power pouring out from Jisung’s very existence, the warmth that usually surrounded him, the heat that usually wrapped tenderly around Minho and made his heart flutter, was shadowed. His vigour had dimmed to match the sorrow hidden behind his pearly smile and it made Minho’s gut twist to witness it. Lord Younghyun stayed true to his word and was by his brother’s side, pride and duty for his family and his Court overpowering the same sorrow matching in his eyes.

It had been a week since the tragic news reached the Night Court and Minho hadn’t had a chance to share a single word with his friend.

Instead, at age nineteen, Minho was there to welcome the youngest High Lord in history – Han Jisung, age seventeen, a childhood friend and maybe something more – as he ascended the throne. Jisung had been thrown straight into duty the second the High power became his, whisked into preparation for his coronation and sheltered by those loyal to the previous Spring High Lord. They hid the inexperienced new High Lord away while he learned to harness the entirety of his power, wary of the ever-watchful eyes ready to strike and try and claim the power for their own.

With the formal ceremony over, the people of the Spring Court returned to their livelihoods and the various councils moved into one of the Spring Palace’s grand ballrooms, decorated with wreaths and vases of purple tulips. Minho watched closely from one side of the room, swirling a glass of champagne in his hand, as Jisung was swept between Lords and Ladies as they surrounded him, wishing him well and already offering new trade deals. The Spring High Lord sent them off politely, stating that the day was for celebration, not business. But with every thank you, a new body was there to take the empty space.

The Night heir had been occupying himself with the Spring Court delicacies brought out on endless silver platters while he waited to get Jisung to all to himself. At one point, Jisung looked up and made eye contact with Minho where he was still drifting along one side of the ballroom. Even across the room, Minho could see the delicate smile and the light rose colour that tinted Jisung’s cheeks as their eyes shared a longing to be by each other’s side. Minho wet his lips in anticipation.

The stare was broken when someone from the Dawn Court stepped in front of Jisung, blocking out Minho’s view completely and whisking the High Lord far away again. With a sigh, the Night heir swiped another tempura flower from the tray passing him and another fluke of bubbly before continuing with his own mingling.

As the afternoon progressed to evening, Minho could see the weariness starting to bleed into Jisung’s features. The crowd surrounding him was finally beginning to thin out and Lord Younghyun had started to take on some of the more forceful proposals. Minho had seen at least three Lords of other courts offer their daughter’s hand to Jisung, that made the Night heir both laugh and burn with jealousy as Jisung politely declined each offered Lady with an awkward smile.

The hours of socialising must have taken a toll on Jisung’s energy though. With a quiet word into Younghyun’s ear, Minho watched as the older brother nodded at his sibling and the High Lord took the chance to move to the back of the ballroom and slip out the back doors with Felix by his side.

“Now’s a good time,” A low voice said from Minho’s left as an elbow nudged his side.

Minho glanced at Changbin, the Illyrian giving a knowing look towards the double doors at the back of the ballroom, and when Minho didn’t budge from his place, Changbin gave an exasperated sigh and took the Night Lord’s elbow, dragging him across the room.

Once they had slipped from the brightly lit ballroom into the much emptier and more peaceful hallway, Changbin released Minho’s arm, “What are you waiting for? No one is around to judge you?”

It was true. His father, the Night High Lord had long since left for his home Court, deeming the festivities and grovelling pointless, turning his head up at his son when Minho said he would stay as long as it takes to greet his friend.

Changbin then added, as they stopped in the middle of the hallway, “I have never been here before, remember, so you’re going to have to lead the way.”

Minho nodded, “He’ll probably be in the garden.” Standing straighter, he led them down the familiar hallway to the back of the Spring Palace.

A couple of the servants they passed gave them scrutinising looks but were quickly brushed off by the confidence in Minho’s walk as he declared the High Lord was expecting him outside.

Once he reached a set of doors leading to the precious garden, he took a deep steadying breath before slipping outside. The sun had already set, casting the yard into eery darkness, only offset by the light spilling from the palace windows. The Spring Court air was always sweetest in the actual garden, but Minho had long since gotten used to the way the pollen tickled his nose.

Minho knew he had led them to the right place when he saw Felix sitting on the stairs leading down to the grass. The Fae boy turned from where he had been looking into the distance in worry at the sound of the door closing.

“Lord Minho,” The name fell from Felix’s mouth with a sigh of relief as he immediately recognised the newcomers,

“Hey Felix,” The Night heir stepped forward and pressed a comforting palm to the boy’s shoulder, his eyes following where Felix had just been looking, eyeing the blond figure in the distance, the crown still perfectly atop his head. “How are you?”

“As good as can be,” Felix gave Minho’s hand on his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “But Jisung could use a friend.”

Minho nodded, releasing Felix’s shoulder and looking back to Changbin. The Illyrian waved him off and went to reintroduce himself to Felix. The last time he’d seen the boy was after he found him lost in the Night Court forest. Leaving the two behind, Minho started down the steps towards the figure in the distance.

Jisung was in a long-sleeved white button-down, overlayed with a soft yellow shirt. Minho wasn’t sure when he had traded the formal blazer he wore during the coronation for the shirt, but he wasn’t surprised to see the change, knowing Jisung found the restricting formal attire even stuffier than Minho did, especially in the Spring heat.

He approached Jisung slowly, watching the way the High Lord’s hands numbly played with the Jade Vine hanging in front of him from an impressive archway. Despite his eyes landing on the turquoise flowers, Minho could see his gaze was unfocused, lost in his thoughts. The faint light on them from the distant windows cast ominous shadows over the both of them, rare clouds in the Spring Court sky hiding the moon. But even in the darkness, Minho could see the way all the flowers within their vicinity were in full bloom, responding to the power falling off Jisung’s shoulders in waves.

Unsure of what to say, to convey his remorse over the loss of the previous Spring High Lord, and to comfort his clearly hurting friend, Minho stated awkwardly, eyeing the beautiful green gemstones ingrained into the white gold crown, “The crown is beautiful.”

Jisung turned towards the sound of Minho’s quiet voice, his face still emptied of emotion as his hands reached up to adjust the heavy metal upon his head, “Tell me, Minho.” His voice was so soft, “I don’t know the meanings of jewels, does emerald suit me?”

“Of course.” Minho stepped closer, close enough to see the pain and sorrow scarcely hidden behind Jisung’s irises, “Emeralds are said to encourage growth, reflection, peace and balance, everything a good High Lord needs.” He lifted a hand to brush a thumb over one of the gems, Jisung’s breath catching at Minho’s proximity, “But most importantly, they also represent healing and fertility.” Minho absentmindedly rubbed his finger where he could still feel the ghost of Jisung’s magic on the pinprick of his finger, even after all these years. “When the Higher Powers designed emerald, they had you in mind.”

The empty look in Jisung’s eyes softened as he blushed and looked away, “It’s heavier than the crowns I am used to,”

Minho noted the wistful look on his friend’s face, nodding in understanding, “I will miss seeing flowers upon your head too.”

There was a heavier weight behind their words. To them, the flower crowns were a symbol of easier times, and the cold metal now sitting upon Jisung’s head was a sign of change they couldn’t fight. That crown, no matter how beautiful, was a symbol of everything that was pulling them apart, locking them away from each other for years to come.

“I miss him so much,”

“I know,”

“I miss them both so much,”

“I know,”

“How can I do this without them?” Jisung’s voice broke on the last word, but he didn’t have any more tears to shed,

Minho rushed to take Jisung into his arms. That close he could feel the power thrumming under the High Lord’s skin, begging to overflow into the world at the smallest slip-up, but even with his emotions screaming at him to release it, Jisung kept his control. His strength never failed to amaze Minho.

With Jisung pressed tightly to his chest, it was easy to remember that the boy was only seventeen, not even an adult and he already had a Court upon his shoulders.

With Jisung pressed tightly to his chest, it was easy to remember just how small the boy was, easily tucking his head under Minho’s chin while the elder carefully avoided the points of the crown.

With Jisung pressed tightly to his chest, it was easy to remember how madly in love with this boy he was.

“You can do this because you are strong.” Minho spoke into the top of Jisung’s head, one arm around his waist, pressing them together tightly, and the other rubbing soothingly up and down his back, “And they knew that. Your father wouldn’t have left things as he did if he didn’t trust you. Your brother wouldn’t still be there, by your side, if he didn’t trust you. The people wouldn’t have cheered so loud for you today. if they didn’t trust you.” Minho gave him a squeeze, “I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t trust you.”

Jisung released another uneven breath against Minho’s collarbone, the tightness in his muscles easing.

“Tell me you understand that.”

“I do, I understand it,” Jisung mumbled against the fabric of Minho’s shirt, _but I don’t believe it_ , was left unsaid,

“Hannie,” Minho pushed the boy back so he could look into his face, “Tell me you believe what I’m saying.”

Jisung’s mouth stayed set and he faintly shook his head, stubborn as always, “Fae can’t lie.”

Minho nodded, “So you know what I’m saying must be the truth then,”

Jisung turned away again, mumbling uneasily, “I guess,”

“Let me tell you more then.”

Jisung’s eyes flickered back to Minho and there was the briefest hint of a smirk on the Night heir’s face,

“Han Jisung is going to be one of the greatest High Lords in history.” Minho declared, “Already, he is one of the most caring, funny, cute and handsome High Lords to ever rule.”

“Stop it, Min.” Jisung warned, “I’m not in the mood.”

“No.”

“Min.” Jisung’s tone was firm, but Minho couldn’t back down when a flicker of light finally appeared in the darkness of the younger’s eyes, even if for just a fleeting second,

“Not until you admit you’re one of the best High Lords there is.”

Jisung flushed in embarrassment and shook his head again.

Minho continued to prod him, “Then you haven’t heard enough yet. Han Jisung is-”

“Fine.” The High Lord quickly cut him off, slamming a hand on Minho’s mouth, “But if I burst into flames for lying it’s your fault.”

Minho just quirked an eyebrow at him, resisting the urge to lick his hand,

“I-” Jisung let out a nervous breath, withdrawing his hand to smooth out his shirt as he started again, “I, Han Jisung, am going to be one of the best High Lords there is.”

There was no spontaneous combustion, so Minho smirked at his friend, one corner of his mouth twitching up, “One of the sexiest too,”

Jisung blinked twice before blurting out a startled, “Minho!”

“I’m done,” Minho put up his hands in placation, laughing loudly, “But it is true.”

Jisung fought off another wave of blush he could feel tinting the tips of his ears red, glaring daggers at the Night heir who didn’t look one bit sorry. Jisung punched him in the shoulder before quickly drawing him into another hug, he buried his face into Minho’s neck as he whispered out, “Thank you, Min. You always know how to take my mind off things.”

The Night heir smiled, resting his palms gently on the High Lord’s back. He let himself breath in deeply, taking in the scent of jasmine in Jisung’s hair, the sweet and rich fragrance filling his nose even over the other smells in the garden. If Jisung said he loved lavender, then Minho loved jasmine just as much.

Pulling back, happy to see some life back in his friend, Minho started sheepishly, “I have a coronation present for you. It’s a bit more lasting than flowers,”

Jisung watched in interest as the Night heir fumbled with the inner pocket of his blazer until he pulled out a little quarter moon, the silver charm matching the one still dangling from his neck.

“It’s an earring,” Minho explained, holding the jewellery up so it glinted in the light still flooding out from the palace windows.

“It’s like yours,” Jisung said in awe, fingers reaching out towards the piece,

Minho nodded, “You once said I was like the moon, but the moon can only shine so brightly when partnered with the sun. You’re my sun, Hannie. Without you, I wouldn’t shine.”

He let the earring drop into Jisung’s hand,

“Keep it to remember that the moon only exists in your presence,”

Jisung closed his hand around the jewellery, looking up at Minho with such sweet admiration, his eyes shining so brightly despite the shadows thrown over them, “Thank you.”

The elder felt his heart swell again at the affection in the younger’s eyes, knowing his own eyes reflected the same emotion. He wanted nothing more than to tell Jisung just how much he adored him. But that would be selfish. He knew anything between them would be doomed from the start. It would be unfair to force his feelings upon Jisung now when the younger boy was already dealing with so much. Unfortunately, Minho had to accept that the time for the two of them together had already passed before it started. Biting his tongue to stop himself from saying anything he would regret, Minho decided to double his resolve to keep his feelings to himself. For Jisung’s sake.

The Spring High Lord wasn’t going to make it easy for him though.

Slipping the quarter moon into his left ear and refusing to make eye contact, the High Lord’s voice wavered nervously as he called, “Hey, Min.” 

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Your Rainflower arrived.”

“Oh,” Minho’s voice held no emotion, holding his worry inside.

He thought his message had been lost in the chaos surrounding the Spring High Lord’s death, but Jisung had received the flower, right in the middle of the worst month of his life.

“I’m sorry,” Minho said quietly, “I should have never sent that,”

“Why?” Jisung smiled up at him, his eyes still holding that boundless sadness, “Your flower made me the happiest I’d been in a long time, but with everything happening, I wasn’t sure what to do. Before all of this, I was sure we’d have some time together, but now with everything I must do, I’m not sure what I can give you.”

Jisung grabbed for one of Minho’s hands, holding it between his own.

“I don’t know how it would work. But if you’ll still have me, with whatever time I can give you, it would make me so happy.”

Minho’s eyes widened. It was everything he’d been dreaming of for the past couple of years. Everything he wanted, offered up with a soft voice and pleading brown eyes.

But Minho liked to think he was smart.

He knew exactly what sort of torture they’d be getting themselves into. A High Lord consorting with a Lord from another Court was nearly as taboo as misting.

It was precisely why he stuck with filling his bed with as many blond Fae boys as he could. It was why he never dreamed beyond the idea of Jisung liking him back. It was foolish to think the flower he sent would change the chains around their wrists, meaning anything they’d have together would be fleeting.

So, Minho tried to be the voice of reason, pulling his hand back and putting space between them, trying to talk them down while knowing very well that they were already a snowball rolling downhill and picking up speed, “We shouldn’t. You know this can’t last.”

Jisung just shuffled closer, erasing the space between them as fast as Minho could make it, voice steady, “I know.” Minho was reminded of the brave little kid he met many years back.

“You know it’ll just hurt us more if we start this now.”

Another step from Jisung caused Minho to retreat beyond the arch of Jade Vine, backing him deeper into the garden and deeper into the shadows, “I know.”

“You know it’ll be hard, that they can’t know about us.”

Jisung’s eyes glittered, despite the apprehension clear in them, “I know.”

Minho sighed defeatedly, “You know I can’t say no to you.”

A teasing smile twisted onto the High Lord’s pretty little lips, finality in his voice as he stepped toe-to-toe with Minho, “I know.”

And that was the truth. Minho knew with everything he had that he was helpless to resist Jisung. Despite his mind telling him it was wrong. Despite every part of him telling him it would only cause them trouble. The snowball was already out of arm's reach, rolling down the mountain with a speed he couldn’t dare to stop. The pitter-pattering of his heart in his chest only grew louder, stronger, until it drowned out all the worries.

Minho liked to think he was smart, but he wasn’t smart enough to stop himself from melting into Jisung’s suggestion.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Minho held his ground as Jisung’s face moved far closer than what he was ever mentally prepared to deal with. “Close your eyes,” Minho instructed gently, and the High Lord quickly obliged, his eyelids fluttering shut with an uneven exhale.

The Night heir moved forward this time, leaning into Jisung’s air space and lingering close enough to feel the younger’s warm breath fan over his cheeks. He studied Jisung’s face, looking for any subtle shift to express he didn’t want this, but the pink colouring resting high on his plush cheeks and the slight wobble to his bottom lip showed that the High Lord was just as eager as Minho behind his nervousness.

Minho lifted both hands, one sliding around Jisung’s neck to tangle into the messy blond strands at his nape, noting the way he could feel the younger’s bounding pulse under his fingertips. The other hand rose to cup a ruddy cheek, revelling in the soft, smooth feeling and the heat emanating from Jisung’s flushed skin. He could tell when Jisung’s breath hitched at the touch, the warm air no longer fanning over his own cheeks.

When Jisung still didn’t move to pull back, instead his hands came to clasp at the silky fabric of Minho’s dark dress shirt, the Night heir finally let his own eyelids slip shut as he pushed forwards with the barest tilt to his head.

Minho felt the slight graze of their noses as he leant down before, finally, his lips reached Jisung’s. The kiss was light, but he could still feel the rough edges of Jisung’s skin where he had undoubtedly been gnawing on his lips with anxiety. Nevertheless, the skin still held a welcoming warmth that flooded Minho’s chest with heat and left him feeling airy.

When Jisung let out a high sound of approval in the back of his throat, and his hands tightened in the silk of Minho’s shirt, the Night heir pressed firmer, moving his lips just barely against the High Lord’s. Jisung responded with his own yearning, slowly moving his lips in time with Minho’s.

It was certainly not the first kiss for either of them, but the sparks that shot from the crown of their heads down to their toes, and the fervour thundering through their veins, begged to differ.

Minho pulled back first, his breath was shaky with the adrenalin flooding his system and he could hear the blood roaring in his ears. It left him lightheaded and giddy.

His eyes trailed Jisung’s face for any sign of regret, but the shadows still casting over them hooded the younger’s eyes, accentuating the desire pooling in them, and the way his tongue poked out to swipe across his bottom lip spoke volumes.

Then Jisung was surging upwards on his tiptoes, slotting their lips together again, with even more enthusiasm than before.

The High Lord wasted no time in parting his lips just enough to tease the Night heir with his tongue. Minho responded eagerly, using the hand on Jisung’s cheek to tilt his head to a more pleasing angle as he invaded the younger’s mouth. Minho could taste the sweet sugar from one of the tartlets on Jisung’s tongue, and he wondered if the younger could taste the sharp tang of the champagne he’d sipped on his own.

The hungry kiss was filled with both sadness and hope. It was drenched in desperation and longing as Jisung’s hands slid into Minho’s hair to scratch at his scalp, while the Night heir’s arms went down to encircle the younger’s slim waist, bringing their bodies tightly together.

Minho lost himself in the moment, revelling in everything of Jisung’s while he could. He again noted the rich scent of the younger man, familiar and welcoming where it invaded his senses. He melted at the way Jisung fit perfectly against him, his hands splaying seamlessly on the small of Jisung’s back, easily covering the width of his thin waist. He shivered at the pleasing hum that vibrated through Jisung’s chest when Minho nipped at his bottom lip.

When they again parted, minutes later with their foreheads resting together and swollen lips spit slick, Minho’s eyes sought Jisung’s, one last time watching for a sign of remorse. All he found on the High Lord’s face was a look that matched his own. A look of fear and want and love.

It made his heart swell and shatter at the same time.

In the quiet of the garden, they left the rest unspoken. They knew what being together would risk. They knew what they had could never be lasting. They knew they were locking themselves into guaranteed heartbreak. But, always on the same page, they knew that even a fleeting moment together in the centuries of their life would be enough.

With a last chaste kiss, Minho stepped back, letting his arms drop from where they had been wrapped possessively around the High Lord. Jisung laughed when he noticed the purple ring of Mallow that had sprouted around them. Though it wasn’t a joyful sound. It was one of longing, as they knew this was where they had to part, and it would likely be a long time before they would see each other again.

“Before you go, I want to give you a present too.”

Jisung upturned his palms, splaying out his fingers. Minho watched with pure fascination as a string of flowers materialised over High Lord’s palms. The pink, white and yellow flowers were artfully twisting into a beautiful garland. Minho’s breath caught in his throat at the gorgeous show of how much Jisung had grown since they were kids. The power of the Spring High Lord would always leave him in awe.

Looking down, Minho only recognised two of the flowers, “Sunflowers, lilies and . . .”

“Plum blossoms,” Jisung finished, “Together they symbolise adoration, happiness, longevity and loyalty.”

Minho could feel the rosy tint to his cheeks and Jisung slipped the garland over his head, the necklace of flowers sitting pretty on his shoulders.

Jisung looked up at him, a pleased smile on his face at the flustered state of the Night heir, “Keep them as a symbol of the devotion, hope and perseverance I have for us.”

Minho bit his lip, unsure of what to say to such an honest gesture. He settled with leaving a peck on Jisung’s forehead, both his cheeks, his nose and finally his lips, hoping the younger could understand he was just as devoted to whatever this was between them.

And if Minho tasted a hint of salt leaking into the kiss, warm wetness from the silent flow of Jisung’s tears, he didn’t mention it.

With reluctance, they accepted that Minho had already spent too much time out there and it was time for him to return home. The Night heir pressed a kiss to Jisung’s forehead one last time before he stepped back, thumbs brushing the last of the tears from Jisung’s face as they shared a longing-filled, tight-lipped smile.

He made his way back towards the palace with a burning farewell on his lips.

When he reached Changbin and Felix, the two still perched side by side on the palace steps, they both gave him a sad, knowing look. He brushed carefully past them without a word, only giving Felix a slight nod in the form of goodbye. The Head of House wasn’t upset with the distant farewell because he could see the dejected look in the Night Lord’s teary eyes and the tremble of his lower lip as he walked away from the Spring Garden, and from what he cherished most.

If Felix also noticed Jisung’s red-rimmed eyes, flushed cheeks and lips a telling swollen pink, when the High Lord finally made his way back out of the garden, he didn’t mention it.

Uniting with his father back in the Night Court, the Night High Lord took one look at the thread of flowers around his son’s neck and knew just what had taken his son so long to return. He lifted his nose in distaste at the necklace, but a new thought sprung to his mind, so he let his son pass without comment, his mind brimming with the possibilities of his sudden epiphany.

***

It was stupid.

Minho was furious and his first instinct, after maturely reining himself in from throwing a punch, and being told it was best to leave, was to flee to the one place he knew he could sit with someone judgement free.

There was also a dash of longing behind that wish too.

So, it was stupid, but not surprising, when he found himself standing – well, sitting really – in the Spring Court, just outside the palace walls.

As he hadn’t thought any further beyond needing to get away from the Night Palace as quickly as possible, he ended up bouncing spectacularly off the Spring Palace wards when trying to winnow in. The ward felt like hitting a stone wall, only harder, giving his body a shock and rebounding him away until he landed flat on his ass in front of a handful of the Spring Guard.

They seemed just as shocked as Minho felt, but were quick in recovering from the sudden appearance of a Night Lord crash landing by himself into their Court.

The weapons raised towards his chest and the silent thrum of building magic in the air warned Minho that his unannounced arrival wasn’t being perceived as friendly.

Carefully raising his hands in a sign of peace, Minho fumbled over what to say. Twenty years of life on the planet and he was still able to make a fool out of himself.

“What business brings you here at such an unusual hour, Night Lord?” One of the guards questioned with a hardened tone.

Slowly standing to his feet and brushing the gathered dirt off his suit, Minho spoke calmly, “I am here of no ill intent. I simply wished to visit my friend I have sorely missed for the past few months, bringing with me some pertinent news. It appears that in my haste to reunite with my old friend I forgot to request entrance to the Spring Palace prior to my planned arrival.” It was a complete bluff, he had no idea his daring escape from his own Court five minutes ago would bring him here. Not until he was crashing face-first into a wall of magic.

Still, it wasn’t the greatest fib – even if it was true that he sorely missed his friend – or the most sound of reasoning – given no other royal would be dumb enough to winnow by themselves into an unfamiliar court. They may be at peace with the Treaty, but it was still tempting fate to wander into another Court so defenselessly. So, the guards continued to eye him warily, all of them in a quiet standoff unsure what to do next.

With every beat of silence, Minho was realising more and more just how stupid of an idea it was to turn up there. Jisung was a High Lord, he didn’t have time to throw away his duties for an hour just because an old friend turned up on his doorstep. His stomach started to twist a little in uneasiness at the dawning of just what he’d gotten into. Minho always prided himself on being far more level-headed than his father, and even Jisung. But after the night he had he hadn’t realised how much he’d let his usual composure crack. Deciding not to show his anxiety, Minho played up his bluff, it was so easy to let everything his father taught him snap back into place – and he hated every part of it.

Straightening himself out further and pulling back his shoulders, Minho spoke, “It’s unorthodox I know, but I think the arrival of a lone Lord should be enough of a reason to contact the High Lord or take me to him, he can vouch for my presence here.”

The guards stayed poised with their weapons drawn, still uneasy with the situation.

Minho cleared his throat, voice firmer as he said, “Now, please. If I wasn’t clear, it is of utmost importance I see the Spring High Lord tonight.”

One of the guards shifted on his feet, “I suppose there is no way you’ll just tell us the message to pass along?”

Minho gave a tight shake of his head, “Not likely,”

“Very well, just, don’t try anything. We won’t hesitate to protect our people, whether you’re a Lord or not.”

“I will follow quietly, and I thank you greatly for your help. So, let’s not mention the whole ward thing to the High Lord, alright?”

He was sure he heard a guard behind him snort, but when he turned his head, the Fae’s face was blank. He narrowed his eyes in the man’s direction anyway in warning before they were finally moving off. The party made their way in towards the palace in silence, the guards still circling him with watchful eyes and magic energy still hanging heavy in the air.

They received many curious glances as they delved into the palace, the guards stopping to confer with other Spring officials and to probably locate the High Lord themselves before continuing on. Minho recognised the wing they entered as one often used during the Treaty negotiations, once again reminding him that Jisung was a busy High Lord trying to run a Court.

They stopped in front of a large set of double doors and he was told to stay put while one of the guards slipped inside. It took only a few seconds of waiting before the doors burst open and Minho was greeted with the delightful sight of wide brown eyes and a mop of golden blond hair.

“Minho?” Jisung's voice was high and disbelieving, his eyes wide as he took in the form of his friend. He looked a bit tired and ruffled, but still effortlessly handsome as he had come to expect from the Night Lord.

Minho’s face split into a cheeky grin, “High Lord,” He bowed politely, and Jisung seemed to wake out of his stupor, realising he was still standing in front of the majority of the Spring council.

“What brings you here, Lord Minho?” He quickly corrected his addressing of the Night Lord,

Minho cleared his throat, “Regarding what I said in my last letter-” That was absolute bullshit considering the last letter detailed only how Minho wished to taste the Spring Court pastries again soon, “-I have matters to be discussed in private, but if you need to finish up here first,” He gestured to the papers scattered over the table behind Jisung, “I can wait for you. It’s not _that_ urgent.”

“Nonsense. You came all this way, we were nearly done for the day anyway, right Lord Younghyun?” Jisung’s elder brother nodded, “So let’s call it for the day, you’re all dismissed.”

There was a hum of appreciation and a bit of confusion from some newer council members as they stood up to take their leave. Minho nodded politely to them as they passed him with curious glances. Soon, it was only the guards, Younghyun and Jisung left.

“Did you want to talk here?” Jisung asked, still entirely confused at the sudden appearance of his friend – _his more than a friend?_

Minho shook his head, “Would you accompany me to the garden?”

Jisung nodded slowly, taking in the pinch between Minho’s brows, causing a different worry to settle in his gut than from before. His initial worry for his Court at Minho’s surprise arrival had been replaced by a new worry for his friend after studying the man’s features. “Let’s go,” Jisung said, dismissing the guards and nodding his leave to his brother.

“My Lord,” One of the guards stepped forward, “I don’t mean to undermine your judgement, but are you sure it is the best idea to be alone with him?”

Younghyun stepped forward then, giving Minho an encouraging smile, before turning to the guard, “You worry too much. Lord Minho has been close with Jisung since they were kids. He’s always welcome in this court.”

Jisung nodded, “He’d sooner ask High Lord Seungmin to dance than hurt me, am I right?”

Minho laughed and nodded again.

“Come on then,” Younghyun swept up the guards on his way out before looking over his shoulder towards Jisung, “Don’t stay up too late now. And try not to have too much fun, you have another early day tomorrow, okay?”

Jisung nodded to his brother and Minho looked between the two, noting the faint flush in Jisung’s cheeks and the knowing glint in Younghyun’s eyes. He had a sudden dawning of the realisation that the elder of the Spring brothers probably knew about their arrangement, and he felt his face flush at the implication of Younghyun’s words.

He couldn’t find it in himself to be upset about Younghyun knowing about their - sort of - relationship. It’d be hard to hide when you uncontrollably sprout flowers that tell everything if you know how to read them, which Younghyun most certainly did.

Left with just the two of them, the doors closing behind Younghyun’s retreating figure, Minho took a moment to finally drink in all of Jisung’s features. It’d been far too long since he’d seen him in the flesh, and the written correspondence did nothing to lessen the longing he had for the younger man, especially since he couldn’t get his mind off the way Jisung tasted on his tongue after the last meeting.

But that was not why he had arrived in the Spring Court, and the sudden memory of his evening in his own court brought back the unpleasant memories full force, pushing him forward and into Jisung’s arms. He buried his head into the Spring Lord’s neck, the younger easily wrapped his arms around his back, rubbing him soothingly while Minho inhaled the sweet scent of jasmine that clung to Jisung’s skin.

Jisung broke the silence first, “I missed you,”

“Missed you too,” Minho mumbled into Jisung’s collar,

“I’m sorry I haven’t found the time to see you, I know you deserve more than what I can give,”

Minho pulled back and shook his head, hands tight on Jisung’s shoulders, “Don’t apologise. I know you’re needed here in your court and I would never try to take you from that. I’m the sorry one for barging in tonight and taking you away from your duties.”

“You’re never a bother, Min.” Jisung gave him a warm smile and Minho felt his heart flutter, but he also realised how tired Jisung looked under his bright smile, lethargy clouding his irises that were usually so bright,

“I know your letters say you’re settling in to the new role well,” Minho cupped Jisung’s cheek, thumb running along the dark circles that had formed under Jisung’s eyes, “But you look tired, how are you actually doing?”

Jisung leant into the warm hand, eyelids fluttering shut as he revelled in Minho’s touch for a moment before responding, “I’m fine. You worry too much. As I said, it took a lot of getting used to, and I wish mum and dad were here to help, but Younghyun has been nothing but supportive and I think we’ve nearly got everything in place for me.” Jisung offered him a reassuring crooked grin, “It only took half a year, but my duties will lessen soon, so it’s a lot of long hours now, but it’ll be over soon.”

“Still, let me know if I can do anything to help,”

“You’re helping me just by existing,” Jisung admitted shyly, resting his hand over Minho’s on his cheek, threading their fingers together, “Even if you can’t always be there in person, I know you always have my back, just like I have yours. Which-” Jisung’s eyes turned troubled- “Brings us to more important matters, why are you here?”

Minho sighed, knowing he wouldn’t have been able to distract Jisung from his abrupt appearance in the Spring Court for long. “It’s my father,”

Jisung watched as Minho’s whole body tensed at the mention of the man, showing that vulnerable side of him that he tried his hardest to keep hidden. Jisung was sure he was one of only a handful of people – if that – that were able to see him that way.

“Can you take me to the garden? Then I’ll tell you it all.”

“Anything you need,” Jisung took his hand, giving it a squeeze before pulling him to the door and reluctantly letting him go. As much as he trusted all the people that resided in the Spring Palace, he didn’t want to risk any gossip escaping the palace walls in regard to him and the Night heir just yet, especially so soon after his coronation. “If you want, I have this marvellous soothing tea that might help you calm down,”

Minho gave him a sceptical look as they wandered down the hall towards the back of the palace. Jisung knew he hated tea.

“I swear on my life it works,” Jisung said, a twinkle in his eye, “Grew the flowers in it myself.”

“You’re not trying to poison me, right?”

“Not poison,” Jisung absolutely grinned, “But it definitely has _special_ properties I think we might enjoy.”

Minho stopped in his tracks, Jisung walking a few steps ahead before realising Minho had fallen behind.

He stopped and turned back to the Night heir to see a flabbergasted look on his face, “What?”

“You’re trying to get me high!” Minho exclaimed, he’d heard about the selection of plants the Spring Court traded in, plants with a variety of effects that altered your mood. They were quite popular in the party scene of his own court, but he’d never tried any in fear of what might happen when he’d be – for lack of a better word – _incapacitated_.

Jisung waved him off, “ _High_ is such a strong word. I like to think of it more as making you happy,”

“Have you tried it before?”

“Of course, it helps calm my mind before bed.”

Minho scrunched up his nose, still unsure about ingesting anything that’d alter his mind.

“Come on, Min,” Jisung stuck out his bottom lip, wide eyes pleading, “Will you have some with your favourite friend?”

“Changbin is my favourite friend,” Minho didn’t miss a beat,

“Fine,” Jisung deepened his pout, “Will you have some with your favourite friend who lets you kiss them?”

Minho opened his mouth to say something snarky just because he could. He ended up flushed at Jisung’s words instead. They hadn’t talked any more about what happened after Jisung’s coronation in the correspondents between them, in fear that someone would intercept their messages. This left them in a sort of limbo regarding their relationship status and Minho’s heart was struggling to accept the fact that Jisung could speak about them so brashly.

“And if you say that’s still Changbin I’ll revoke your flower crown privileges. Now, will you try it with me?”

Minho snorted at the horrifying thought of Changbin and him together, finally relenting, “Fine.”

“Yay,” Jisung squealed, so much like the young boy Minho first met that it was hard to remember that the bright boy in front of him was currently ruling a whole court, and that the power running through his veins could overpower Minho’s and rip him to shreds without an ounce of effort.

Jisung was able to catch the attention of one of the servants on their way to the back garden, ordering the tea to be brought out to them.

It was quiet out in the garden, the sun had set, but there was a collection of lamps casting an orange glow over the flowers. Minho followed as Jisung directed them through the flora, watching as the flower buds sprung open as the High Lord approached and closed again once he had passed.

Eventually, they came to sit on a stone bench under an arch of Morning Glory. Jisung snorted at the plants, mumbling to himself, _love in vain_ , eyes moving wistfully from the blue flowers back to Minho as he settled beside the Night heir.

Minho noticed how Jisung sat close enough that their thighs pressed together, their knuckles brushing together where they rested respectively on the edge on their laps. Minho made the first move to grab Jisung’s hand, lacing their fingers together where they now rested between them.

Jisung gave his hand a squeeze, “Why are you here, Min?”

Minho took a deep breath, letting out a disgruntled sound and looking down at their joined hands with empty eyes as he spoke, “I fought with my father tonight,”

“Oh.”

Jisung knew Minho didn’t have the greatest relationship with his father. They never went into detail about it, but Jisung knew Minho well enough to know he didn’t agree with a lot of his father’s teachings and the way the Night Court was run. It fell into the category of topics that they avoided to keep court drama out of their relationship.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”

Minho sighed again, “But I think it’s about time I should though,”

Jisung rubbed his thumb along the back of Minho’s hand, giving him the space to continue on his own time.

“You know my father has always been… overbearing.”

Jisung nodded,

“As I grew older, he eased up a bit as he realised the more that he pushed me, the more I pushed back, and we were okay, for a while.”

Minho leaned more into Jisung’s side, resting his head upon the High Lord’s shoulder.

“He’s started up again. He’s trying to get me to be his double and that’s just not who I am. He’s increased my guards, saying it’s because I’m not safe with just Changbin and my own power, when I know it’s because he wants more eyes on me. He’s just trying to control everything I do and…” Minho stopped, biting his lip and saying more quietly, “And I think it’s because I’m getting stronger.”

“Huh?,” Jisung’s voice was equally quiet, whispering, “Is he sick?”

Minho shook his head, “No. It’s not that. I’m just _growing_ , and he doesn’t like it. You know how every other Night High Lord and Lady came into power, right?”

Jisung gave a tight nod, humming in understanding.

The Night Court had a lot more violent history than many other courts. It was part of the reason Minho had tried so carefully to keep who he was separate from the Night heir name in Jisung’s eyes. He didn’t want to be lumped in with the countless power-grabbing murderers who slaughtered their way onto the throne. His own father had taken the High Lord title that way a few centuries ago, and once Minho was old enough to understand how the High Lord power came to flow through his blood, he started to resent the title upon his shoulders.

“I think he thinks I’m going to try and overthrow him,” Minho said carefully, “And I may not agree with all of his rules, but he’s my father. I wouldn’t want to ever do that, I couldn’t, could I?”

“No,” Jisung said sternly, “You are nothing like your father or those who came before him. You did the right thing coming here rather than staying and fighting with him.”

“But it wasn’t me, not entirely,” Minho sighed, “Soojin was the one that helped calm him down enough to back off and who told me to leave it be.”

“Your Head of Council?”

“Yes. Some of the time, I think she’s the only thing keeping our court together.”

“Don’t say that, Min. I’ve seen how you act in meetings. You’re strong and smart and much fairer than your father. The Night Court is lucky to have you.”

“But…” Minho’s words died on his tongue as his throat choked up, “But you didn’t see me tonight. He made me so angry. I wanted to hit him, Jisung. My own father.”

“Oh, Min,” Jisung breathed softly, reaching up to cup the side of Minho’s face, thumb brushing over the velvet skin of his cheek. He wasn’t sure what else to say.

Minho was so afraid of following in his father’s footsteps, just like the man wanted, right down to the bloodshed that would put him onto the throne, and Jisung didn’t know what he could ever say to convince his friend otherwise. He knew the history of the Night Court had been weighing down Minho’s shoulders for a long time.

Just as Jisung opened his mouth, two of the housekeepers came into the small clearing, both with a silver tray in hand, one holding a floral teapot and two teacups and the other with a collection of delicate pastries. Minho immediately straightened out, moving his head off Jisung’s shoulder and pulling his hand back, if the two Fae’s saw the intimate contact, they didn’t show it.

“Thank you,” Jisung nodded to them, “You can place them here.” He raised a palm and Minho watched as a solid trunk sprouted from the ground in front of them, flat on the top for the two trays to be placed. Jisung dismissed the two women saying he’d ensure the crockery made it back into the kitchens himself. The two women tried to protest but he shooed them off, saying he was more than capable of cleaning up after himself at such a late hour. Bowing their thanks, the two Fae scurried back to the palace.

Minho stayed silent as he watched Jisung pour the faint pink coloured tea into the two cups. “Here,” He offered one to Minho and the Night heir raised the teacup, inspecting the liquid closely. The scent was both fruity and bitter.

“This is safe, right?”

“Of course.” Jisung gave him his signature gummy smile and Minho took a leap of faith and sipped the tea.

He could feel it immediately, the warmth blossomed through his chest and spread all the way to his fingertips and toes. It was surprising how quickly it took effect. The taste wasn’t bad either, a little tart but overall sweet enough that it slid down his throat easily, and in no time he had finished all that was in his cup.

“Best to go slow,” Jisung laughed as he pulled the cup from Minho’s hand and sat it back onto the tray, “Don’t want to knock you out just yet. Your first time hits you pretty strong.”

“This is great, Hannie,” Minho declared loudly, eyes wide and voice a pitch higher as he looked around him. The world had taken on a vibrant edge, the colours bleeding together into a soft glow that both disorientated and set his vision alight. He was suddenly so aware of everything around him, so aware that he couldn’t even stop to think about what had been plaguing his mind. Instead, all that mattered was the stars glowing brightly in the night sky and the sudden thought of whether the crisp blades of grass would feel soft to touch.

He answered his own question by jumping off the bench, taking Jisung by surprise, as he flopped to the ground, mumbling to himself, “Softer than I thought.”

Jisung laughed at his friend as he sprawled out on the grass on his back, arms spread wide as he stared up at the clear night sky. Minho wasn’t sure if it was the tea or the company, but the night sky looked just as good as in his own court.

After a moment, Minho’s eyes flickered to Jisung again, his mouth dropped open in surprise because the High Lord was glowing brighter than any of the stars in the sky. His light hair shined even in the darkness and his brown eyes sparkled. Minho sucked in a breath, “You’re so handsome. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at another being for the entirety of my existence.”

Jisung laughed, hoping the movement would hide the deep blush that broke over his features at the compliment.

“I see why you drink this now,” Minho admitted, “I wish I could feel like this all the time. It’s like the afterglow of an orgasm only I don’t feel like I just run ten kilometres to get there.”

Jisung giggled at the brutally honest comment from the loose-lipped version of his friend, “Yeah, well,” He tried to recollect his thoughts, “It dampens your connection to your power, so don’t get too attached. It’s not intended for extended use anyway. You sort of build up an immunity to it after a while.”

“Shame,” Minho sighed, eyes cutting towards Jisung and glinting dangerously, “Guess I’ll just have to go back to my usual method for feeling this way,”

Jisung spluttered on his own tea, face heating and Minho’s words. He kicked out at Minho’s side, but the Night heir just laughed and rolled away from the – not so – threatening limb.

Once Minho’s laughs had died down, Jisung just smiled down on him, feeling the warmth of the tea bubble away in his chest too, but it was nothing compared to the bright spark of happiness he felt being in Minho’s presence. He slipped off the bench and joined Minho on the grass, shimmying next to him and admiring his side-profile as Minho stared up at the stars.

“I want a crown,” Minho mused to the sky,

Jisung chuckled, “In a moment, I’m too high to think about making anything right now.”

An offended giggle exploded from Minho’s face, “I thought we weren’t getting high,” He whispered quietly,

“I never said we weren’t getting high, just that high was a strong word to use.”

Minho tsked and flicked Jisung on the forehead, setting them both into another fit of chuckles.

“About before,” Jisung started carefully, and Minho’s eyes flickered to him before looking back to the sky, “I don’t think you’re anything like your father. Yes, you are smart and strong and powerful just like him. But you are also kind and compassionate and funny. You’re the only person I’ve met who could sit out here with me for hours twisting flowers into crowns, talking about everything and nothing, not having to mention a single thing about these damned courts.”

From this angle, Jisung watched as the corner of Minho’s mouth twitched into a smile, voice bright as he replied, “And you’re the only one who lets me feel like I can truly open myself up. Changbin is great, but he doesn’t understand why I love the simplistic beauty this world has to offer, not in the way you do. He doesn’t understand why sometimes it’s nice to just feel… _normal_.”

Jisung nodded. He understood without more needing to be said. Instead, he pushed himself further into Minho’s side. The Night heir took the opportunity to roll onto his side and curl himself into the High Lord, his arm coming around Jisung’s lithe waist as he buried his nose into Jisung’s chest.

And maybe they both didn’t know what the future held for whatever this spark was that was building between them, but no matter what, they would always have the knowledge that there was someone out there who understood what it was to be in their shoes.

And with it, there would always be a place where they would be understood, no questions asked, just the promise of a flower crown, a comforting arm and a moment in time with the feeling that everything would be alright.

*

After a couple of hours chatting away under the stars, sipping tea and devouring pastries, it was getting far too late to stay out in the garden. Minho could sense Jisung’s reluctance to end the night, just as much as he was holding himself back from going to his own court.

Thirteen years after they’d first met, they found themselves in a similar position. They were sitting cross-legged in the grass, giggling away as they twisted flowers together into deformed crowns, too distracted by each other to pay attention to the crooked circlets. It would be easy to stay out there all night, curl up together on a bed of flowers so they wouldn’t have to part, but Jisung had another idea.

Rubbing along his nape awkwardly, Jisung refused to look up as he asked suddenly, “Did you want to stay here with me tonight?”

Minho baulked, but smirked through the warmth fluttering in his chest, playing off how totally smitten he was by the High Lord and his offering, “What would the people think about you spending so much time with a demon like me? In your room no less.”

Jisung rolled his eyes, pushing Minho away and refusing to meet his gaze, “What the people don’t know won’t hurt them and besides, get your head out of the slums, my offer was just for you to sleep here so you didn’t have to travel back so late. I can easily put you into a guest room, so don’t get any ideas.”

The Night heir just smirked wider, “You hurt me, Sungie. I am a true gentleman and wouldn’t dream of doing anything to taint your name… Well, I might dream a little.”

“You’re so gross, it’s a wonder I like you,” Jisung remarked as he pulled himself to his feet, offering a hand for Minho, “Now, are you coming with me?”

“As if that’s even a question,” Minho quipped, letting Jisung pull him up, grabbing the other tray and tailing behind Jisung with a hop in his step, the aftereffects of the tea still making the world sway in his vision.

They returned the crockery to the kitchen and giggled their way up to Jisung’s room, being far less quiet than they thought they were. Despite Jisung’s earlier fears about what the people of the castle might gossip about seeing them together, they weren’t trying very hard to be subtle. He had nothing to worry about thankfully. All those that reside in the Spring Palace were nothing but reverent of their High Lord, so they said nothing about the way Jisung’s fingers brushed against Minho’s as they walked by, or how neither of them even seemed to notice the housekeepers at all as they passed, too engrossed in each other.

It was only when they were right outside Jisung’s door that things grew precarious as the two Fae ran directly into Younghyun.

Everyone paused in a moment of surprise, wide eyes watching each other from across the hallway. The two younger Lord’s minds were sluggish from the tea as they tried to think of a way to explain the sight of the Jisung sneaking Minho into his room at midnight.

Younghyun spoke up first, “I was just coming to find you. I take it from the fact that you haven’t come to find me that my suspicions were correct and we have no pertinent news to worry about from the Night Court?”

Jisung shifted his weight nervously, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Minho was still standing stiff as a board right beside the younger Spring brother, unsure if he should say anything to try and defend himself for commandeering Jisung’s time.

The elder Lord just laughed at the matching petrified looks on their faces, “Don’t be so worried. You’ve worked hard, Sung. You’ve earnt the right to spend the night off with a friend.” He then turned to face Minho directly, “And I meant what I said earlier, you’re always welcome here as I know how much you mean to Jisung, and I can see the feeling is mutual. Now go on, be free,” He waved them off.

Jisung nodded, bowing his head, “Thank you.” Minho followed suit. Then they scurried into the High Lord’s room before they came across anyone else.

The tea still swirling in their stomachs made the time pass strangely as they flitted about Jisung’s room, sleepwear exchanging hands and turns being taken washing up in the adjoining bathroom. Minho felt as if he was living some sort of surreal dream as he sat on Jisung’s bed, waiting on the High Lord to come out and join him.

They were quiet as Jisung turned out the lighting, leaving a single candle lit beside the bed. He carefully slipped under the light covers to join Minho, who had already made himself comfortable in the unfamiliar bed. The Night Lord had certainly shared his bed with a fair few in his time, but nothing could compare to the giddy feeling of anticipation as he settled into the soft mattress with the warm presence of Jisung beside him, and he knew it had nothing to do with the tea.

It was in the darkness of the room, only the flickering of candlelight casting moving shadows over them, that Jisung finally broke the unsure, tense quiet between them, “Minho,” He started.

Minho hummed in response and heard the rustling of bed sheets as Jisung turned to face him, not that the younger would be able to see much details in the dim light, his own eyes far better equipped to see in the darkness, making out the anxious set to Jisung’s brows and the slight pout to his lips.

“I know we joked earlier, but I don’t mind if we do... a little…” He trailed off,

The implication took Minho by surprise, “Ah,”

“Only if you want to,” Jisung quickly spoke up again, anxiety making him start to ramble, “I understand it’s a bit fast and all, and I know you have more experience than me so I don’t know if I’ll be any good or anything but I know you have to go back tomorrow and I don’t know when we’ll have time together like this again so I-”

“Hannie,” Minho cut him off, reaching out and cupping the High Fae’s cheek, “It’s okay. I want you. You couldn’t possibly understand how much I want you, but that doesn’t mean you have to push yourself too quickly with me. I will wait until you’re ready.”

It was true. They hadn’t spoken directly about their experience, but Minho had assumed Jisung was a lot more reserved with his affections than he had been back in the Night Court. He certainly didn’t want Jisung pushing himself out of his comfort zone just for him, or force him to share how far he had gone with anyone. Just being with the Spring Lord again after so long was more than enough.

Jisung released the deep breath he’d been holding, trying to hold Minho’s eyes in the darkness, “But I do want it. I want you now.”

Minho smiled, feeling heat blossom in his chest before sparking along his nerves and shooting south.

“At least a little bit… You can definitely kiss me,” Jisung finished, with his voice airy and Minho had to strain to hear him.

Minho drew closer, watching the way Jisung’s eyes flicked about nervously in the darkness, trying to read the Night heir’s features. He pulled Jisung closer, gently pushing on one of the younger’s shoulders until he rolled softly onto his back. Minho leant over him, letting his weight settle just enough on the younger to make his intentions clear, “Is this okay?”

Jisung nodded, and when he wasn’t sure if Minho could tell in the dim light, he said quietly, “Yes.”

One corner of Minho’s mouth quirked up and he finished climbing onto the younger man, nudging his knees aside so he could settle between the High Lord’s legs, the sheets slipping back off his shoulders. He hovered over the Spring Lord with his hands supporting his weight on either side of Jisung’s head. This close he could see Jisung’s Adam’s apple bob as he gulped.

Minho leant even closer, lips brushing Jisung’s as he whispered again, “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation from Jisung that time, a hint of desperation lacing his voice as his hands came up to thread in Minho’s hair, pulling him down just enough to press their lips together. Minho let Jisung lead them, feeling as the High Lord slowly moved his mouth against his in a gentle rhythm that he was quick to follow.

In no time, Jisung let his lips, sucking Minho’s full bottom lip into his mouth before releasing it and darting out with his tongue. Minho met him halfway, relishing in finally having a taste of Jisung on his tongue again after so long.

Minho could feel the blood pumping through his veins, he hadn’t been that excited for a long time, still in disbelief that he ever had the chance to have Jisung in that way at all. He was a little dizzy, everything he was feeling leaving him delirious on the thought of _Jisung_.

He didn’t want to leave Jisung’s mouth, but the rest of his body was screaming at him, wanting to taste more of the High Lord, to feel as much as the younger would let him.

Jisung seemed confused when Minho pulled back, his teeth pulling on Jisung’s lip as he retreated. The younger wanted to chase him, but Minho’s mouth didn’t move far, a peppering of kisses working its way along his jaw before the lips came to settle just under his ear.

“Is this okay?”

Minho sounded as breathless as Jisung felt. The words left a warm teasing sensation along the sensitive skin of Jisung’s neck. The younger let out a shaky breath, his head tilting to the side to offer more space for Minho to work with.

“Yes~”

The mouth at Jisung’s neck let out a high, airy chuckle at the younger’s eagerness, latching onto the skin immediately. Minho let himself suck on the soft, tan skin, letting his tongue swirl meaningless patterns that made Jisung shiver in pleasure. His lips travelled down, leaving a wet trail of pinkened skin in his wake.

Reaching the collar of Jisung’s soft nightshirt, one of Minho’s hands came down, pulling the material sideways and exposing a sharp collar bone. He gave a quick nip to the jutting bone, right next to the mole there, before he drew back again and settled on his heels, hands now tugging at the bottom of the High Lord’s shirt as he looked down on Jisung, asking again, “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” Jisung drawled, leaning forward to help Minho pull his shirt over his head, “Do as you want, I want it all.”

Minho hummed, eyes roving over the tan skin of Jisung’s body, exposed just for him in the flickering candlelight. His body looked so soft and delicate, all smooth lines and curves, while also clearly defined with hardened muscle. Minho found himself unable to look away as he ran his hands up and down the bare skin.

“You’re gorgeous,” Minho whispered breathlessly, bending down so he could press his mouth onto the warm body beneath him.

He could feel the goosebumps rise on Jisung’s skin, body shivering as he licked and sucked his way down the High Lord’s torso, only slightly disheartened by the lingering taste of soap on his skin. He would have rathered the light tang of salt, something more _Jisung_. But the warmth under his tongue was enough to satiate his desires anyway, his fingers tracing the bumps of Jisung’s ribs as his hands still worked up and down his sides.

The sighs Jisung released were high and airy, pleasing to Minho’s sensitive ears.

When he looked up, the High Lord’s head was tipped back, eyes closed, and mouth opened just enough to pant out under Minho’s ministrations. He watched in delight as Jisung outright moaned, neck arching even further when a tongue flicked across his nipple. The Spring Lord’s hands came to settle in Minho’s hair, carding through his dark strands encouragingly.

Minho continued for a few moments, taking the time to explore Jisung all the way down to his abdomen, finding the spots that made him squirm. The High Lord was particularly jumpy when Minho mouthed at the bone jutting out at his hip, his hands tightened in the Night heir’s hair, fingernails dragging along the horns atop his skull. The reaction was an instantaneous groan from Minho and Jisung was just as surprised as the Night Lord.

“These are sensitive?” Jisung asked, eyes wide as he looked down to the Fae between his legs. He let his fingers scratch along the horns one more time in interest, watching the way Minho sighed in delight, his body shivering,

“Yeah,” Minho replied shakily, sitting back up, “They’re not really used to being touched.” He leant down beside Jisung’s head, running his tongue from the base of Jisung’s ear right up to the extremely sensitive point, “Sort of feels like that,” He smirked at the way Jisung shuddered and gasped.

“I wanna do it too,” Jisung said, round eyes directed to Minho, who could easily see the mischief behind those sweet words,

“Do what?”

Jisung locked his thighs against Minho’s waist and used his surprise to roll them over until he was straddling Minho’s lap. “Everything you just did,” He answered with that same saccharine voice, all while his fingers danced along the Night heir’s abdomen, dipping further and further under the hem of his – technically Jisung’s - nightshirt.

With a smug and adoring smile on his face, Minho laid back while Jisung took the time to explore his body just as he had done to the High Lord moments before. Jisung was especially fond of dragging his fingers roughly through Minho’s hair, scratching along his horns and pulling his head back so he could suck on the Night heir’s neck. The roughness from Jisung was unexpected but certainly not unwanted.

Finishing his exploration, Jisung’s mouth made its way back to Minho’s, more forceful than it had been that whole night. He could tell there was a lot of eagerness in Jisung’s body, right where his hips were pressed skin-tight to Minho’s. His own body had responded in the same way to the attention.

They were both getting beyond excited at that point, and a very big part of Minho was screaming at him to take Jisung’s willingness and run with it. But Minho didn’t want to treat Jisung just like any of the other Fae boys he’d taken to bed.

Carefully, the Night heir pulled back from Jisung’s lips, “Let’s stop here tonight,” Minho’s words breached the quiet that had surrounded them, previously only broken by soft pants and delicate gasps.

Jisung let out a light whine, “Why?”

“I just want to appreciate you for you before I go any further.” Minho explained, “I- I don’t want you to think I’m just taking you and your body for granted. I want you to feel special, not just like some plaything for me.”

“Minho,” Jisung furrowed his brows, “I would never think that of you,”

Minho scrunched his nose, “Well you should. I’ve done it before. Many times. And I’m worried I’d do the same thing to you.”

“Min,” Jisung caressed his face with a hand, “Even if you have done things in the past, I know what we have is different. I’m not afraid of you hurting me or tossing me aside if that’s what you’re worried about?”

Minho refused to meet his eyes.

“But if you want to stop tonight, then I respect that.” Jisung slipped off Minho’s lap, tugging his shirt back down and grabbing his own discarded shirt to pull over his head, “If you say no, then we stop. No more questions. You said you would wait for me, but I’ll wait until you’re ready too.”

The Night heir finally looked to Jisung, nervous crimson irises looking glassy, “Thanks, Hannie. Next time, I promise we can do whatever you want. I just need tonight to prove to myself that I’m capable of more than- than just sex.”

Jisung nodded in understanding, pulling the covers over them, “What about cuddles?”

Minho laughed, taking the hint, and huddling up to Jisung’s chest, half draping himself over the High Lord with an arm and leg over his midsection, “I think cuddles are okay.”

“Good.”

“Now, we should probably sleep as I really should be heading back early tomorrow morning,”

“Yeah, yeah.” One of Jisung’s arms settled on Minho’s back, rubbing soothing circles, “Just, give me a moment to calm down. I’m sort of sporting a serious hard-on right now.”

Minho snorted, rolling his eyes, even though he was in a very similar situation, “Goodnight, Han.”

“Goodnight, love.” Jisung whispered back, placing a kiss on the crown of his head, and Minho was thankful his face was buried into the younger’s chest so he couldn’t see the bright flush on his face at the affectionate name.

*

The next morning came too quickly, Jisung walked Minho to the winnow room without issue amongst the hustle and bustle to get the palace ready for another day.

Nothing else needed to be said. They both knew where they stood. Both clinging to the hope that they’d see each other in the flesh again soon.

Before he could winnow back home, Jisung took Minho’s hand in his, dropping a bundle of flowers onto his palm and curling the Night heir’s fingers around them. “White Acacia,” Jisung smiled, stretching on his tiptoes to land an innocent kiss on Minho’s cheek, “For secret love.”

Minho returned the smile, holding the flowers carefully to his chest in one hand as he turned to press his forehead against Jisung’s, his free hand coming to caress his cheek, “Let’s meet again soon, okay? I can’t wait for another six months.”

They both knew that was wishful thinking and unlikely.

“As if I can keep myself away,” The High Lord replied, leaning into the touch before reluctantly moving back so Minho could finally take his leave, “See you soon.”

The Night heir nodded, mouth tilted into his signature coy smile as he stepped back, his eyes memorising every single detail of Jisung’s features as his view of the Spring Court faded and he landed back into the chill air of his own court.

***

Minho ran his hands down the smooth lines of his overcoat, twisting back and forth and watching the twin tails flutter behind him in the mirror. He was nervous. He hadn’t been so nervous hosting an event ever. It was time for the annual Grand Court Ball and the Night Court was hosting the party. That meant hordes of Fae and other creatures alike from all seven councils would be present, pretending to play nice and subtly trying to show each other up and win new relations.

Minho was good at that sort of thing. Great even. Being younger, merely twenty-one amongst the eventual centuries he would look forward to living, he had long since mastered the art of wooing the Fae men and women. His looks, for obvious reasons, easily stood out in a crowd and he had been trained to charm them with words since he was old enough to talk. People didn’t care that he’d shown a preference for men, one he was of age, a single heir was fair game for all types of suitors.

But it was different tonight.

Jisung would be there.

Jisung, who Minho hadn’t seen for many months, and who the Night Lord had big plans to pursue with a flower and a dance. Even though he knew he had to be subtle about it.

“You’re overthinking it,” Changbin commented from where he was sprawled out on Minho’s bed, looking more like a bogfisher than a trained royal guard.

Minho simply made a low noise in his throat, ignoring his friend as he turned in front of the mirror again. His black overcoat glittered from the tiny embedded rubies running along the edges and creating elaborate patterns over his shoulders. He knew the gems made his crimson eyes shine and he wasn’t sure if he wanted that much focus on the parts of him that differed so much from the Spring Lord.

“Seriously, Minho,” Changbin dragged himself off the bed and strolled over. He didn’t need to wear an elaborate suit, but for once he was out of his Illyrian leathers, still with a hidden array of weaponry under the dark clothes. “You look good.” He continued sincerely, “Jisung adores you, you don’t need to hide any part of you or tone it down.”

“But-”

“No, the Spring High Lord is absolutely smitten by you. He can’t take his eyes off you whenever you’re around. So stop. You look good as you are. And besides, if that coat does become too much, you’re just going to make the poor kid drool when he sees this underneath.”

Changbin made a show of slipping a hand under the coat and letting his fingers tug at the strings of Minho’s shirt underneath. The shirt was of the same ruby red as the gems. Although, the eye-catching factor on this piece of clothing was the way it was strung on his body, revealing his collar bones in their entirety and a decent portion of the muscle of his chest. The shirt hugged his body all the way down where it tucked into the tight black dress pants. Pants that did nothing to hide the way the material bulged at his thighs.

Minho yelled and jumped back when Changbin let the string snap back against his skin. “You got high-class sex appeal. The crowds will be all over you.”

“They always are,” Minho sighed heavily, waving the Illyrian off. He appreciated Changbin’s attempt at encouragement anyway. His friend knew he had become uncharacteristically nervous whenever being in Jisung’s presence again, ever since he’d sent that Rainflower. There was always a bubble of doubt eating away at him that maybe what was between them was only one-sided, even if the second he saw the smile on Jisung’s face directed towards him, he knew all those worries would be wiped away and he could slip back into the familiar companionship of being with Jisung.

One glance out the window towards the night sky told him he had stalled enough and it was time to make an entrance to the gathering. He patted his coat’s inner pocket, making sure everything was still in place, then he started out the door.

Calling over his shoulder at his shadow, Minho stated, “And don’t act like you don’t have all the women of the Day Court fawning over you at every chance they get. I see them always trying to feel up your biceps.”

Changbin snorted, “Because they’re a bunch of High Fae warrior women, they just like to compare how similar my arms are to their own.”

Minho laughed, “True. But nevertheless, you’ll have eyes on you tonight too. Maybe even Felix with leave the Spring Court.”

“Not important,” Changbin deflected, cheeks flustered at the mention of the Fae boy, “Tonight, we are getting you alone time with your High Lord.”

They reached the double doorway leading down into the main ballroom where the event was being held. Minho stopped to take a breath, a saccharine smile slipping into place ready for the night, “I’ll hold you to that,” He challenged Changbin, as the doors were thrown open for them to enter.

The ballroom has been chosen for it held the most grandeur chandelier of all the courts, and the Night High Lord loved nothing more than to show off his wealth. The structure had been lit to cast sparkling beams of light throughout the room. The beams bounced off the deep coloured drapes lining the walls, heavy material of blood red and midnight blue hues. The light also reflected off the swathes of gems spread throughout the room making everything sparkle in the grand way only the Night Court could achieve.

The Night heir’s entrance was from atop a grand staircase, overlooking the room. Most heads turned to watch his arrival, a mix of eyes filled with adoration and jealousy. He kept his smile polite and stare piercing as descended the stairs and started the long process of greeting every person in the room.

With each new bow, it was getting harder to ignore the way his gaze kept drifting across the room. Like a magnet, Jisung’s presence was calling to him. He could feel it, the warm thrum of Spring Lord magic twisting blindly in the air, curling around him and drawing his attention to the blond man.

Where the Night Court favoured clothing of elegant suits adorned with extravagant gemstones, the Spring Court prefered the older styles of their ancestors. This included intricate tunics, leather pants and knee-high leather boots. Jisung’s tunic was made of a series of deep emerald green layers, colours to match the gems of his crown. The material cinched at his waist with a gold belt, looking even smaller than usual when compared to the hulking forms of the Illyrian guards standing watch. When he twisted and turned to talk to the Fae surrounding him, Minho was just able to catch golden stitching worked into the emerald fabric.

He was ogling the way the leather of Jisung’s lower half hugged his form, still leaving room to spare and showing just how tiny the Spring Lord actually was, especially when surrounded by towering nobles. Not even the heavily elevated soles of Jisung’s boots could hope to match in height the Hgh Fae around him. An amused smile slipped onto Minho’s face realising Jisung’s shoes probably had them standing equal in height - because if he had to admit it, Minho wasn’t much taller than his friend.

The gentlemen in front of Minho cleared his throat, drawing the Night heir back to the present, before continuing straight onto his next whine and bigotry induced rant.

The Night heir had been stuck in an unwanted political debate with an especially old High Fae male from the Winter Court, trying to drown his boredom with as many glasses of red wine that passed by as he could. Occasionally, he welcomed a brief pause from the man’s monotone ramble when the High Fae stopped his tangent to stuff himself with more helpings of the spiced red meat that made up the main course of platters for the night.

After hours had passed, Minho watched wistfully as the dessert trays started making their rounds, meaning the Ball was more than halfway through and he hadn’t even had a chance to greet Jisung yet. He knew the Spring High Lord would be just as busy tonight as he would be as a host of the event. People were still not over the novelty of a new High Lord. It was an occurrence that only happened every few centuries. That didn’t make it any less annoying as he watched Jisung be led into dance after dance from another would-be suitor, each Fae woman asking for his hand increasingly more beautiful than the last.

Swirling the blood-red liquid in his glass, Minho was not even sure what the man in front of him was saying anymore, he lost interest after the councilman suggested that he sided with the old ways where there was a distinct class difference between the Fae and High Fae.

A piercing high-pitched giggle caught his attention and Minho bit his tongue from snarling as he watched a High Fae lady from the Autumn Court tighten her hand, sharp nails and all, into Jisung’s bicep as he led her from the floor after finishing their dance. His hand clenched so hard on his glass Minho was sure the thing was a pinprick away from shattering. He lifted the glass to his lips and downed the dregs of wine before politely excusing himself from the Winter Court councilman and swiftly crossed the room to Jisung.

People had turned to watch his determined stride, Minho could feel their eyes on him as he marched straight up to the Spring High Lord. Jisung’s eyes found him too, gaze lingering on Minho head to toe and he watched the Dark Fae approach.

The Autumn Court female was still attached tightly to Jisung’s side, but the High Lord was quick to pry her hands off him, thank her for the dance and then completely dismiss her when Minho stepped close. His eyes barely left Minho to do so, making the Fae huff as she retreated. Jisung also waved everyone else off to let them know he would be spending some time uninterrupted with the Night heir.

With Jisung’s sole attention finally on him, Minho bowed deeply in greeting towards the High Lord, Jisung responding with a nod of his own. They finally looked each other over up close, drinking in the others' features and eating up the extravagant details of their formal attire. Minho was adamant Jisung looked more refined each time he saw him, but a part of that might have had to do with the confidence Jisung now wore. It was the way Jisung commanded attention like he was on stage that made Minho’s heart skip a beat.

“Hi,” Minho broke the silence between them, a smile breaking onto his face,

“Hi,” Jisung returned with just as bright a smile, eyes crinkling and mouth forming that lovable heart-shape,

“I’d love nothing more than to take you in my arms and kiss your right now,”

“Minho!” Jisung flushed, quickly covering his mouth after calling out so disrespectfully in the presence of others, “You can’t say that in a place like this,” His eyes darted around to all the Fae watching them closely, sizing up their interactions, “They’re all listening.”

Minho grinned, smug, sly and highly attractive, “If only one of us had a power that could silence sounds. Something that would normally be used to sneak around silently in the dead of night, but could maybe be utilised in various other creative ways,”

Jisung’s bright eyes widened, “No way,”

“Yes way,” Minho giggled, “They can strain their ears and powers all they want, but to them it’s as if our voices are lost in the sea of other sounds. Perks of being a host,” Minho winked, “Easier to use a little magic without people realising.”

“You’re crazy,” Jisung laughed in disbelief, 

“Only for you,”

“Don’t milk it too much,” The Spring High Lord rolled his eyes and scolded, “You’ll lose your novelty too soon.”

Minho just laughed louder, seeing the way that despite his words, Jisung’s flush grew at his flirting.

“I missed you,” Jisung blurted suddenly, his words quickly sobering Minho up,

“I missed you too,” The Night heir sighed, knowing so many of their conversations were set to start this way over the next few months, years and maybe centuries. But he had long since decided he was sick of tiptoeing around Jisung, people would always be watching no matter where they were, so if their time together had an expiry date, he would make as much of what he could. There were a few things he could do without raising too much suspicion.

“Here,” Minho offered a hand to Jisung.

It was a well-known fact they had been friends for years. Anyone who knew them had seen them grow up together and could overlook a lot of interactions between them. At least, that’s what Minho was hoping for.

The younger hesitated for a moment, but quickly gave in and lifted his hand to sit on top of Minho’s. The elder laced their fingers and gave a gentle shake, as if he was simply wishing Jisung well, before releasing the younger’s hand.

Jisung hummed in surprise, eyebrows raised as he realised Minho had delicately pushed something into his palm. Following Minho’s lead, he carefully peeked at the item, immediately recognising the flower. The High heir had passed a dried Viscaria blossom to him. As subtly as Minho had passed it to him, Jisung slipped the flower into a pocket of his tunic, heart flooding with warmth as he locked eyes again with Minho, his delight at the plant overflowing.

“I’d love to.” Jisung smiled, in response to Minho’s unspoken question.

Minho grinned back and offered an elbow, Jisung took it and was led to the dancefloor.

Minho hadn’t had a chance yet to appreciate the work that had gone into preparing for the ball, but the room looked magnificent and watching Jisung’s eyes sparkle just like the chandelier above was more than satisfying for the Night heir.

Facing each other in the centre of the marble dancefloor, Minho waited for Jisung to take the first step to place his hands. The younger opted to take Minho’s left hand in his and rest his other on Minho’s shoulder. The Night heir grinned, taking the opportunity to slip his free hand not encased within Jisung’s down around the Spring High Lord’s lithe waist.

He let his fingers brush delicately against the rough material of Jisung’s tunic, thumbing at the golden belt as he took the lead to sway them in time with the gentle melody coming from the string quartet in the corner. 

Jisung easily followed Minho’s lead, letting him twirl them lightly around the dancefloor, a bright smile gracing his features the whole time. He ignored the many pairs of eyes following their every movement and the hushed whispers that carried their names.

Minho leant closer, lips almost brushing Jisung’s ear as he spoke lowly, “I’m sorry if I pushed you to dance. Are you worried what they’ll say about us? About you?”

“No, I wanted this.” Jisung squeezed Minho’s hand in assurance, pulling back to see his face. “You’re my friend to them. I have never and will never deny such a thing, so let them talk.”

Minho hummed, “Don’t smile too brightly at my good looks then. They probably think you’re into men now, or at least curious. They already know and love to gossip about my preferences.”

“Good,” Jisung chuckled, playful eyes meeting Minho’s, “Because I am into men. And if they read into our interaction tonight, I may be able to avoid so many prying females in the future.”

Minho barked out a laugh, “If only it were that easy. They are all under the belief they will be the one pretty enough to turn you straight.”

Jisung scrunched his nose at the thought.

“Unfortunately, it’s impolite to tell them I could never see them that way because my desires include choking on dick.”

“Minho!” Jisung spluttered for the second time that night, fumbling in his dance steps and making the Night heir laugh hard,

“Sorry for being so crass, but it’s true.”

“You’ve drunk too much,” Jisung sighed, unable to hide his amusement. He could see flush from alcohol darkening Minho’s lilac skin.

“I had to. It was torture watching you dance with all those beautiful women.”

Jisung laughed this time, letting his hand slide from Minho’s shoulder inward until it was cupping the side of his neck, fingertips just brushing the hair at his nape. “You’re ridiculous. You should know by now I have my eyes set on one being only.”

Minho’s hand tightened on Jisung’s waist at the heat of fingers against the skin of his neck, “Can’t help it. My hands itch with longing. I want to grab you all the time. I want to hold you against me and show everyone that right now, in this instance, you are mine.”

Minho knew he was being jealous and possessive - also letting the wine make him loose - but the way Jisung sucked in a breath, body tensing as he moved so close to Minho that their chests were almost touching, was just as telling as the blush on his cheeks.

Breath fanning over Minho’s lips, wide brown eyes imploring, Jisung whispered, “Then show me how I’m yours.”

Swallowing away the dryness of his throat, Minho’s heart was hammering in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to do as Jisung said. He wanted to break the last distance between them. He wanted to close his lips over the Spring High Lord’s and taste him again. He wanted to run his hands over the taut muscle and tanned skin of his chest again. He wanted to explore lower, find all the places he hadn’t yet worshipped, and make Jisung crumble under him. He wanted to show Jisung in every way he could just how much he loved and cherished him.

Unfortunately, the room was swarming with Fae. Watching and murmuring. Waiting for someone to slip up so they could make a grab for power. Chan and Jeongin may have opened the flood-gates for same-sex couples, but no one would dare breach the wall that kept those at the top away from consorting with other Courts.

Minho could taste it though, Jisung just on the tip of his tongue, his body daring him to make the mistake of kissing him. It would be so easy. It would be so right.

Before he could though, a tap on his shoulder shocked him back to his senses. The soft sounds of a cello once again filled the air and he could finally see beyond the young High Lord in front of him. Jisung looked just as starstruck, seemingly as close to breaking as Minho, but the sight beyond Jisung’s shoulder steeled the Night heir’s resolve.

It was his father.

His red eyes were watching Minho closely, his lips in a thin line as he took in the scene of his son and the Spring High Lord. There was something calculating in his gaze. He could see it. The way Minho had Jisung wrapped around his finger. The Night High Lord had never been more proud of his son. So young and already with another Court ready to bend to him. Idea after idea filled his head. Now he just needed Minho to take it further, secure the Spring High Lord’s heart and body.

The High Lord smiled at his son, a look of encouragement that baffled Minho, brow crinkling in confusion as he expected nothing but distaste whenever his father saw him with Jisung. He didn’t have time to unpack that look before he was turning to see who had got his attention.

Surprise overtook his confusion as there stood the Summer High Lord, and beside him, his Fae bonded. Minho quickly bowed in greeting to Chan and Jeongin, Jisung doing the same.

The Summer High Lord smiled his well-known big dimpled grin. “Good evening High Lord and Lord,” He nodded to Jisung then Minho in turn, “I was wondering, seeing as this is a Ball, would you share a dance with Jeongin and me?”

Minho’s shock must have been clear on his face because Chan let out an amused laugh and clapped him on the shoulder.

“It’s not often you see two men dancing at these kinds of things,” The Summer High Lord continued, “You think our novelty would have worn off by now, yet I feel couples like us will be the centre of attention for far too long,”

Jisung jumped in first, “Oh, we’re not a couple, just good friends,”

“Ah, I see.” Chan nodded, eyes twinkling mischievously, “Of course you can’t have the only heir to the Night throne making a claim in another Court.”

Jeongin stepped forward then, rolling his eyes, “Shut it, Chan. You’re making them nervous. I swear we came over to make relations and help you, not do whatever he’s doing.”

“Help us, how?”

Jeongin turned to Jisung at his question, and Minho could finally see the younger’s eyes, bright and challenging and fiery. They told him that the Fox Fae loved to play and he realised that probably wasn’t always a good thing.

“By sharing you around, of course,” Jeongin said like it was obvious, taking the Spring High Lord by the elbow, “People can’t spread things they shouldn’t if you spend your night dancing with a plethora of men rather than one.” Jeongin’s eyes flicked to Minho, “No matter how charming you may find him.”

Minho could only watch at a standstill as Jeongin whisked Jisung into a dance, twirling the High Lord across the dancefloor, and leaving him with Chan. So, with nothing else to do, he turned to the Summer High Lord ready for whatever Chan was playing at.

Chan first said pointedly, “It’d be great if both you, I, and our partners, could have a private conversation tonight, right?”

Minho’s eyes widened at Chan’s blatant suggestion that he use his power to hide both their conversations. Looking to where the others were, Jisung and the Jeongin weren’t that far, but with so many people around, Minho’s power would struggle with such a thing. He was going to say so to Chan, but when he turned back, the Summer High Lord now his hand out in offering to the Night heir.

“Need a hand?”

Minho chuckled to himself. Of course, he had forgotten something so obvious. Without another pause, he placed his palm atop Chan’s and felt as the Summer High Lord let some energy flow into the Night heir, increasing his power just enough to complete his task without draining himself.

“Thanks,” Minho said, still in disbelief at the whole encounter.

He never thought he’d be making a deal with the Summer High Lord, getting to feel the flow of Chan’s magic so soon, or ever really. 

Chan let Minho lead the dance, much to the young Night heir’s surprise. He just assumed that arguably the most powerful High Lord would want to take charge.

Instead, Chan let Minho lead him around the room, a small smile on his face. Minho could tell the High Lord was waiting for him to speak first. After having his and Jisung’s secret outed in the middle of a ball, Minho would admit he was slightly intimidated to do so, before finally finding his courage and asking carefully, “Are we really that obvious?”

“Not at all.” Chan’s features softened at Minho’s cautious tone, “It’s easy to tell you two care for each other, but beyond that, it’d really be just gossip at this point. So, I think you would have been fine without us, but seeing as we’re here, I figured let’s spread some of the focus off you two anyway?”

Minho nodded slowly, carefully processing Chan’s words,

“It was Jeongin that actually pointed you two out to me. Everyone knows he carries pyro magic from his Fae half, but only a few know about the powers he gets from being a Fox spirit. And the second you walked into the room, he told me he could feel the flames burning in Jisung’s heart, and the second you saw him, Jeongin could feel your matching fire. Call me soft, but I found it sweet. In case you couldn’t tell, I’m a hopeless romantic.” Chan’s eyes trailed across the room, watching Jeongin fondly.

Minho still wasn’t sure how to respond. It was obvious he and Jisung had something special between them, but to have someone new point it out to him so bluntly made it even more real, and he couldn’t tell if that was something to be proud or afraid of.

“Anyway,” Chan continued, “Jeongin and I just wanted to let you know we’re on your side with whatever happens between you two. I’ve spoken with the new Spring High Lord a bit these past months as he came into power and it’s good to see a leader as kind as his father on the throne. I’m always looking to get close with High Lords like that. So, it’d be good if the Night Court had someone like that too, one day,”

Minho stumbled, just as the song was coming to a close, eyes wide once again as he looked to Chan. Had Chan just suggested he couldn’t wait for Minho to become High Lord?

As the last note played, Chan let go of Minho, his ever-present smile still shining as if he hadn’t just discussed the taboo things he did.

“I had fun tonight. It was a pleasure to finally have a proper chat with you, Lord Minho. Let’s talk again soon.”

“Of course,” Minho bowed deeply, feeling Chan’s power recede and with it his own power dimmed back to normal, “The pleasure was all mine. You’ve certainly given me much to think about.”

With one last nod, Chan stepped away to go take Jeongin’s arm and lead him into the next dance.

Before Minho could head towards Jisung, a High Fae boy from the Dawn Court - judging by his pale complexion and white attire - stepped in front and offered his hand, “There are only a few dances left, Lord Minho. I have spent the night watching you from afar, but seeing you dance with the Spring and Summer High Lords has given me the courage to reach out to you. Please let me have a dance?”

Minho looked past his shoulder to see Jisung was already being circled by the next group of women vouching for his time, and the boy seemed genuine, so Minho offered his blinding party smile and took the Fae’s hand, leading them into a dance.

For the last few songs, Minho and Jisung were kept busy with Fae from all around trying to get in a last chance to appeal to the Lords. It was exhausting. A whole evening spent smiling and laughing and playing off every comment when someone mentioned how it’s so sweet to see the Spring High Lord’s and the Night heir’s _friendship_. But it was best that way because once the party was over, Minho had plans to snatch Jisung away and finally spend some alone time with him.

After the last song had finished, the crowd started dispersing, those that hadn’t already slipped away with someone on their arm for night and those who had drunk too much to be steady on their feet were led out by the Night Court servants and the Illyrian guards.

The Night High Lord had already left for the evening, making it known that the party was over. Changbin and Minho shared a look at that, the Illyrian rolling his eyes from where he had been quietly observing the night.

With only the smallest number of stragglers left, Minho decided it was as good a time as any to be daring, he swept Jisung by the elbow and pulled him towards the staircase at one end of the room, where he had entered at the start of the night many hours ago.

One of the Spring guards wanted to protest but Jisung just laughed heartily once the surprise of being grabbed quickly wore off. He waved away his guards, telling them to wait in the ballroom as he’d be safe with Minho and the Illyrian. They seemed uneasy at the request but Jisung pointed out he had more than enough power to be safe with them.

Once the double doors closed behind them, leaving Changbin, Jisung and Minho alone in the hallway, the Night heir still didn’t let up, pulling Jisung towards his suite.

“Minho,” Jisung laughed, his heart fluttering at how eager the Dark Fae was, “Where are we going? What are you doing?”

Minho stopped and turned to the High Lord, “I’ve watched you flirt with people all night, it’s my turn to get you to myself. So why not start where we left off in the ballroom?”

Jisung’s words, _show me how I’m yours_ , had been playing in a loop in Minho’s head ever since he heard them and he’d be damned if he ended the night without doing something about it.

The High Lord flushed and went to embarrassingly point out the fact that Changbin was still there, but when he looked over his shoulder, the Illyrian was gone.

“In that case,” Jisung started shyly, “I had to endure you dancing with all those pretty Fae boys for the past hour, so I think you owe me too.”

Minho smirked, his eyes darkening.

Jisung gulped as the Night heir crowded against him, slowly edging him back until his shoulder blades hit the stone wall behind him.

Minho’s mouth watered at the sight of Jisung in front of him. His brown eyes were wide with anticipation, his lower lip flushed red from where he had been biting on it, and he could see the way Jisung’s breath shuddered every time he got closer. “What can I do to make it up to you then?” Minho’s voice was smooth, velvety, “Can’t be indebted to a High Lord now can I?”

Jisung smiled playfully, eyes filled with mirth and desire, “I could think of a few things,” He reached up, wrapping his arms around Minho’s neck and pulling him even closer, “But how about you start with a kiss?”

The side of Minho’s mouth lifted as his smirk grew. “As you wish, my High Lord.”

His hands that had been on the wall caging Jisung in, slid down to his waist. He would never get tired of wrapping his hands and arms around Jisung and feeling how small he was.

Eyes slipping closed, he dipped his head and captured Jisung’s lips too, quick to start moving their mouths together gently as they moulded together perfectly.

There was something so perfect about the way Jisung’s tongue came out to meet his, dancing together smoothly. It drove Minho wild. It made him hold the younger tighter, pressing his body against every inch of Jisung’s and crushing him against the wall until Jisung could only gasp in surprise. The younger’s hands tightened around Minho’s neck in response, a hand gripping the short hair at the back of his head and tugging.

Minho let a hand slide down Jisung’s waist, curling around over the curve of his ass and giving a playful squeeze on his journey that had Jisung grunting in surprise, before he reached Jisung’s upper thigh, coaxing the leg up and pulling it around his waist. Jisung followed the movement effortlessly, locking his hands around Minho’s shoulder and whispering between kisses, “Catch me,” before jumping up and wrapping the other leg around Minho’s hips to match.

The Night heir was quick to hold Jisung firmly, foreheads resting together and keeping him from falling as he pressed Jisung back into the wall again. This time their hips were flush and Minho sighed at the feeling, loving the way Jisung made a small sound of surprise and pleasure too.

Jisung tried to capture Minho’s lips again, but the elder giggled and stopped him, “I think we should take this to my room before we go any further,”

The younger’s hooded eyes snapped open, realising he was wrapped tightly around and sucking face with the Night heir in the middle of a palace hallway.

Minho giggled louder at the look on Jisung’s face before tightening his hold and moving back from the wall, taking the High Lord with him.

Jisung squealed in surprise, “Put me down!”

Minho ignored him, quickly carrying the squirming High Fae down to his room and carefully opening the door without dropping Jisung. He used his foot to close the door behind them then immediately spun back around and pressed Jisung up against the door, a parallel to how they were in the hallway.

“Better?” He asked into Jisung’s neck,

“That was humiliating,” Jisung whined, “What if someone saw?”

“They wouldn’t. Changbin had one job to do. Keep the staff out of this wing. And Changbin is good at his job.”

The High Lord let out one more sulking whine because he could, grumbling under his breath. He didn’t make any more moves to escape Minho’s arms though.

“So,” Minho nuzzled against Jisung’s ear, “Have I settled my debt yet?”

“If I say yes, what will you do next?”

Minho nipped on the bottom of Jisung’s ear, pulling at the half-moon earring, “Whatever you’ll let me do. You owe me now,”

Jisung shuddered, words airy, “Then yes. Do whatever you want to me. You have me, right here, right now.” His nails bit into Minho’s skin, digging into his scalp, “I’m yours.”

Minho felt sparks shoot through his body at those words, hurriedly pressing his lips to Jisung’s neck, placing featherlight touches up and down the smooth column of skin. His tongue darted out, tasting the salt leftover from a night of dancing. It was addictive. It was nauseating. Having Jisung in every sense again. Hearing his small sounds, smelling that lingering jasmine scent, and feeling the warmth of his skin even through so many layers of clothing.

Minho was already worked up from all the teasing, and he could tell Jisung was too, the younger Fae squirming in his hold, rutting his hips steadily down onto Minho’s.

Reaching the unfortunately high collar of Jisung’s tunic, Minho played with the gold belt at his waist as he pulled back to ask Jisung if he could remove it. The younger nodded in impatience, capturing Minho’s lips again and making the process a lot more difficult as Minho couldn’t see what he was doing, but he was in no way going to push Jisung away.

The heavy metal of Jisung’s gold belt finally hit the floor, and Minho’s hands shifted to the green fabric of the tunic, slowly peeling the material from Jisung’s form. “Hop down for a sec,” Minho murmured, easing Jisung’s legs from around his hips so he could finish pulling off the top half of Jisung’s tclothing, slipping out of his overcoat as well.

Jisung’s eyes widened, taking in every piece of skin Minho’s shirt had revealed, his tan fingers playing with the strings just as Changbin had done so hours ago, the wine red of the shirt contrasting beautifully with the lilac of Minho’s skin that peeked out.

“You’re gorgeous,” Jisung said softly, eyes never leaving Minho’s form,

“I could say the same about you.”

It was true. Minho would never stop being enamoured with how perfect Jisung’s body was. He looked so small and delicate, but his lithe waist was contrasted by strong shoulders, a toned stomach and solid biceps. Minho loved the idea of picking Jisung up and throwing him around, but he knew Jisung would be just as capable of doing the same to him.

Minho’s eyes trailed downwards, looking at how the leather of Jisung’s pants had grown tight, knowing he must look just as desperate in his own pants. He wasn’t sure how far he wanted to take it tonight, or how far Jisung would be willing to go, but his fingers were twitching at the thought of getting to touch _all_ of the High Lord.

Crowding into Jisung’s space again, Minho’s hands worked down Jisung’s body, rubbing goosebumps into the younger’s skin with his light touch, while he let the younger have his turn mouthing along his neck and collarbones. Jisung’s own fingers were undoing the knots holding Minho’s shirt together, releasing, inch by inch, more of that lovely lilac hue he craved as he worked his tongue down Minho’s body. The sensation of Jisung’s warm mouth lit his body aflame and he couldn’t help the shivers as the cool air of the Night Court brushed every part that Jisung passed on his journey.

Eventually, Minho’s fingers grazed the top of Jisung’s pants, thumbing at the hem. “Can I?” He asked once Jisung had finished shedding the red silk of Minho’s shirt, leaving both torsos bare.

“Please.”

The word wasn’t anything but a plea from Jisung’s lips. And Gods, did Minho want it. But he could feel the High Lord was practically shaking.

Minho hushed him, cupping his cheek and telling him to settle lest he combusts.

“Sorry,” Jisung mumbled, leaning into Minho’s hand, “I just- I want you so much, but I don’t want to disappoint you. I-I’ve-”

He couldn’t finish his sentence, embarrassed eyes looking away. Jisung’s hands clenched anxiously by his sides, ashamed he couldn’t even speak openly with Minho. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Jisung carefully held up a palm, speaking to Minho in the only way he knew how.

Minho was worried, scared he’d pushed too far, too soon. He just wanted to have some time alone with Jisung. He was ashamed that he may have let his desires push the younger too much.

The Night heir watched in concerned interest as Jisung produced a flower, it was a white lily. Picking the flower up carefully, he cocked his head in question to Jisung, sorry he couldn’t understand what the younger was trying to say. “You’ve already given me one of these. On the garland.”

“I know,” Jisung’s ears were as red as a rose and he was still avoiding looking directly at Minho, “But they have another meaning.” Jisung bit his lip, mumbling out, “They’re the symbol of purity.”

“Purity?” Minho repeated quietly, trying to understand what Jisung meant. The Night heir watched the Fae before him fidget nervously for a few more moments before understanding struck him. Minho’s eyes widened at the message, “You’ve never...?”

“I’ve been a bit busy,” Jisung ducked his head even lower, stumbling over his words to defend himself, “I-I’ve messed around a bit, with- um- with Felix. But neither of us wanted to go that far. And I’ve only ever had interest in doing it with you.” Jisung curled in on himself, arms crossing across his bare chest, “Does that make me naive?”

“No,” Minho quickly jumped in, “I’m the same. I mean-” He cut himself off, feeling guilt wash through him, “I mean in that I’ve always only truly been interested in you, but I have already, you know...”

“I expected as much,” Jisung finally glanced up at him, “And I’m not judging you for it either. You were just always ahead of me anyway,”

Minho hummed, leaning up to touch Jisung’s crown, “This says otherwise,”

Jisung sighed, “I feel like this is making me lose more ground between us. Growing up you always seemed so sure of yourself and what you wanted. You were always quick to bounce back from anything that got you down. You weren’t afraid to take the steps I couldn’t.”

“Hannie,” Minho pulled him close, wrapping his arms around the younger man and drawing Jisung’s head to his chest, “I second guess myself and every decision I make all the time. Everything is always so confusing and I can never figure out what’s the real me and what’s the me my father is trying to force upon me.”

He pulled Jisung across the room to sit the Fae onto the edge of his bed, never once letting him go.

“What I’m trying to say is, I’ve never been sure of a single thing I’ve ever done. Except choosing to be with you that is.” He patted Jisung’s head affectionately, “Not having sex yet isn’t something to be ashamed of, it’s not a wrong or cowardly choice to wait. I only did it because I didn’t think I’d ever get to this point with you.”

Jisung nuzzled into Minho’s neck, letting out a shaky breath, “You don’t think I’ll be bad at it?”

“I think I’ll love whatever you do, and that you’ll be adorable the whole time doing it.”

Jisung squirmed around and bit him in retaliation for making him so flustered, causing Minho to flinch and yelp, “You shouldn’t be calling a High Lord adorable.”

“But you are,” Minho ignored the pain in his shoulder and dragged Jisung towards his lap, “You’re my cute High Lord. All mine.”

“You’re a pain.” Jisung flicked Minho’s forehead as the elder manhandled him until Jisung was straddling him.

Minho chuckled, drawing Jisung’s mouth down for a chaste kiss, “I’m serious though. I know we haven’t really said it properly to each other, but I do love you. So I’ll love anything you do. And if you don’t want to go that far, that’s okay too. I told you before I’d wait until you’re ready, and if that means waiting forever, I’d do that for you.”

Minho saw as Jisung’s eyes softened again, looking glassy as they filled with overwhelmed tears, “I love you too. And I promise I am ready. Ready for you. Ready to learn. If you’ll let me.”

“Of course,” Minho squeezed Jisung’s hips in affirmation, “I’ll make my adorable High Lord moan out my name.”

“Minho~” Jisung whined out already for him, half-teasing and half because he was already overwhelmed. He pushed harshly on Minho’s shoulders until he fell back against the bed, Jisung sitting resolutely above him still straddling his thighs. The High Lord pulled off his crown and sat it carefully on the bed beside them, “I told you I’m not adorable,”

“What are you then?” Minho had a smug grin on his face, even as he watched Jisung’s eyes darken above him, “Cute? Sweet? Shy?”

Jisung grabbed Minho’s wrists, dragging his hands from his hips and pinning them above his head, his face drawing closer to Minho as he did so. “How about…” Jisung shuffled forwards, until he was sitting directly on top of Minho’s crotch, then pressed his ass down and watched Minho squirm, “Eager.”

“Oh Gods,”

Both of them may have deflated a bit during the brief pause, but Minho was a hotblooded young Fae with a gorgeous being grinding on his lap. It would not take long for him to reach peak excitement again. Especially when said being let his wrists go so he could undo Minho’s belt and pop open the top button, untying the pants just enough to let his dick breath.

Minho was unsure where he could put his hands, not wanting to upset or push Jisung, but he really needed to hold onto something. He wanted to return the favour, untie the teasing strings keeping Jisung separate from him, making sure his fingers grazed along the bulge in the High Lord’s pants as he did so.

“Can I touch you?” Minho’s voice came out small, Jisung had his hands braced on Minho’s chest as he rocked his hips gently, working up a rhythm that got them both excited. The sight was unbearably enticing and Minho couldn’t look away, nor blink in case he missed a second of Jisung’s facial expressions.

“Yes.”

Minho’s hands shot back onto Jisung’s body, helping guide his hips deeper, harder. Jisung was letting out little noises, quickly getting overwhelmed again, and it was driving Minho absolutely crazy how sensitive the younger was.

“Here.” Jisung took one of Minho’s hands and directed it down his body, eyes locked with Minho’s as he pulled it onto the leather-covered bulge of his pants. The Night heir refused to break eye contact as he cupped Jisung in his hand, palming along the length as much as he could through the restricting leather. The sigh of pleasure Jisung released was heavenly, his eyes falling closed as he doubled down his grinding, pressing his dick against Minho’s hand with every forward roll of his hips.

Minho was too memorised by Jisung, every movement, every sound and every expression to even think about closing his eyes and letting himself focus on his own pleasure. No matter how much the feeling of Jisung rocking down on him made his hair stand up in delight.

“More.” Jisung croaked again, body trembling.

“Can I?” Minho’s fingers teased just under the hem of Jisung’s pants, dipping into his undergarments too and brushing against the small patch of hair there.

Jisung couldn’t even process any words to say, nodding excitedly and pushing himself into Minho’s hand harder.

“You’re so precious,” It wasn’t said with any teasing intent, Minho was simply in awe of Jisung, “I can’t believe I get you all to myself.”

“Please more,” Jisung whispered, voice shaky. Minho could tell that despite all his protests, Jisung loved being praised and Minho’s words just now were pushing him over the edge.

Minho let his hand slip further into Jisung’s clothes, letting the full, hard length rest warmly against his palm. He could feel Jisung twitch in his hand as his fingers followed the velvety skin all the way to the tip, running the barest pads of his fingers across the head. Jisung moaned deeply and bucked forward, and Minho noted a wave of precome dampen his fingers.

With continual whimpers passing his lips, Jisung fell forward, tucking his head into Minho’s shoulder, mouthing at the lilac skin to keep himself grounded. Minho continued trailing his fingers up and down Jisung’s length, feeling his own dick throb in his pants once the younger stopped moving on top of him.

So close yet so far.

The younger was too lost in the sweet pleasure of Minho’s hand, the touches feather-light but enough to keep him on edge. Minho was trying his hardest to be gentle, coaxing all the small sounds he could out of Jisung. It was overwhelming, having Jisung in his hand and on his lap. He started moving his hips up on his own, rolling up into Jisung and chasing that sweet pressure.

“Hannie,” Minho’s voice was rough, calling the younger back to his senses. Jisung’s dazed brown eyes settled on Minho’s face, noting the pinch between his brows, “It’s really tight. It hurts a bit. Can I...?”

The High Lord followed Minho’s free hand, the one not currently curled around his dick, and noticed he was tugging at his own pants, skin tight and suffocating. Minho could see the second Jisung’s pupils blew wider, eyeing the bulge he was still sitting upon.

“Yes, please. Can I touch you too?”

“Definitely. Just-” Minho groaned as he shuffled around, removing his hand from Jisung's pants and pushing the younger back so he could lift his hips and shimmy his own pants down. It was just enough to slip himself out of his confines, but the relief was instantaneous. He sighed in content, “Much better.”

Jisung’s eyes stayed locked on his dick and Minho almost wanted to squirm under such an unyielding stare, but the High Lord moved first. He quickly tugged his leather pants down his thighs, letting his length fall out. He was absolutely shameless as he shimmied forward and aligned himself with Minho.

The Night heir watched greedily as Jisung sized them up, Jisung may have been a little longer, but he was definitely thicker. Minho was ready to make a comment about it when Jisung took as much of both of them as he could in his hands and rolled his hips forward. The glide wasn’t the smoothest, clammy skin rubbing against clammy skin, but the intent was still there, pleasure making Minho groan in surprise.

“Shit,” Minho cussed when Jisung did it again, the younger’s eyes watching hypnotised as their most intimate parts slid against each other. Minho threw his head back, letting his hips move too, both of their lengths thrusting through Jisung’s small hands.

“Feels good?” The High Lord questioned, breath stuttering,

Minho nodded, “So good, just, hold right there for a second,”

Jisung stopped his movements and let Minho shuffle out from under him, the Night heir scrabbled to the table beside his bed, a difficult feat considering his pants were still clinging to his thighs. He found what he was after and hurried back, slipping back into the same spot with Jisung straddling his thighs.

“Here,” He showed Jisung the small glass bottle, a viscous liquid inside, “Give me your hands.”

Cocking his head in question, the younger lifted his palms while Minho popped off the lid. The liquid had an aroma of flowers, if he was less intoxicated on everything that was Minho, Jisung would probably have been able to pick out the exact scents. Instead, he sat patiently while Minho poured what he recognised as flower oil onto his hands.

“To help the slide,” Minho explained.

Jisung nodded. He didn’t want to admit he had a very similar bottle near his own bed. He rubbed the oil between his hands then reached down to wrap both hands around them again. Experimentally, he gave a thrust, and Minho was right. The glide was so smooth between them, Jisung was sure his eyes rolled back at the feeling.

They both got lost in the feeling of frotting against each other. Minho shivered when Jisung’s hands squeezed tighter and his hips twitched forward after every time something felt particularly strong. Each thrust together bringing them closer and closer to sweet release. 

Minho could feel his stomach coiling, getting ready to blow, and the way Jisung’s hips were stuttering was a sign he was close too.

“I wanna kiss you,” Minho groaned, watching Jisung bite on his lip again, the poor thing so swollen from the abuse it had received that night, “Hold on while I flip us.”

Minho was careful, holding Jisung closely as he rolled them over, Jisung’s hands never once slipping from where he was wrapped around their dicks. Keeping himself supported with arms either side of Jisung’s head, Minho started moving his hips again, it was easier at this angle, and he could also lean down and capture the younger’s mouth at the same time.

Jisung couldn’t keep up with the kiss, body squirming too much and mind long gone, but Minho found it adorable anyway. The way Jisung kept his mouth open as he moaned, clumsy tongue trying to meet Minho’s.

“Close,” Jisung mumbled, the word almost inaudible through the kiss,

“I am too. You’ve done so well.”

The praise slipped out before he could stop it, but Minho wasn’t embarrassed by it. If he knew Jisung wanted it, he would spend the whole time whispering sweet words into his ear.

Moving all his focus to the younger, Minho let Jisung direct the pace of his hips, his mouth leaving Jisung’s so he could lick the length of the younger’s ear. The High Lord all but squealed as Minho’s tongue lapped at the sensitive point of his ear, and before he could get another warning out, Minho felt the warm liquid of Jisung’s cum shooting between them. It smeared between them and dribbled onto Jisung’s stomach and he panted for breath, hips moving slowly as he worked himself down from the high.

Once he was spent, Jisung carefully removed his dick from the equation, but his hands stayed firm over Minho’s.

“Your turn,” He whispered, face flushed and looking satisfied.

Minho decided to make it quick, snapping his hips forward quickly as he chased that last bit he needed to reach his high, groaning low in the back of his throat as the orgasm washed over him. He felt his hips slam into Jisung’s hands, spreading his seed all over the younger as his body shuddered with the aftershocks.

It took a while for them to both recover, skin tingling all over from the staggering orgasms they’d just shared. Unfortunately, the chance to bask in the afterglow was taken from them by a pounding against Minho’s door.

“Hey, lovebirds. Just letting you know the Spring Guards are starting to get a bit restless. You’ve been gone for over an hour now.”

“Fuck,” Jisung called out, jolting up in surprise and pushing Minho off him, “I didn’t realise it’d been so long. I have to go.”

“Not like that you won’t,” Minho snorted, looking at the white globs drying all across Jisung’s front. It was a beautiful sight and he wished he had more time to appreciate it, but their time was up. “I’ll go grab a washcloth.”

The Night heir jumped from the bed, only stumbling slightly on his pants that were locked around his ankles, surprise taking over at the sight of greenery surrounding his bed. He kicked the last of the material off his feet, stepping back to appreciate the full view.

“Ah… Hannie. Why are there herbs lining my bedposts?” 

The High Lord turned around in surprise, eyes doubling in size as he saw the mess he’d created. He let out a long-suffering sigh, “It’s Dill.”

“Yeah,” Minho laughed, “I can recognise that one. Wanna tell me why you felt my room needed seasoning?”

Jisung shot him a glare, “You know I can’t control it. It means passion, asshole.”

Minho sniggered, blowing Jisung a kiss and a wink as he finally stalked quickly to his adjoining bathroom. A grumbling Jisung would deny that he enjoyed the view watching him go.

Minho couldn’t have hoped for a better turn of events that night as he gently wiped down Jisung’s naked form, sneaking in one last kiss before making him look as presentable as possible and sending him out the door.

Changbin was leant against the wall of the hallway. He raised his eyebrows suggestively at them, which they both pointedly ignored, as they said their goodbyes while scurrying back towards the ballroom entrance. Jisung promised he’d find time to visit soon, and until then, the High Lord should look forward to his letters.

Then Jisung darted down through the doors to join his guard and pretend he hadn’t been having the time of his life grinding against a Dark Fae, and Lord of the Night Court at that. 

Minho watched him go, a dopey smile on his face that Changbin quickly pointed out. The Night heir pushed his friend aside for calling out how smitten he was for the Spring High Lord, even if he didn’t deny the statement. Changbin was also insistent in finding out how far they had gone, but Minho kept his lips sealed tightly, bidding his friend goodnight instead. 

Reluctantly, Changbin parted ways with the Night heir to head to his own quarters only a couple of doors down, adamant he would get all the details the next day. Minho waved him off saying he’d never kiss and tell, a lie they both knew as Minho had never been quiet about his conquests in the past. They both also knew Jisung was different though, and that meant Minho was less inclined to share, wanting to keep the Spring High Lord to himself for as long as he could.

Thinking there was nothing to bring down his good mood of the night, Minho was wrong when he realised there was someone else waiting at his door. His stomach dropped at the sight of his father.

Minho stepped up to the High Lord, waiting to see what his father would say. He could only imagine the worst things given what he’d been up to that night.

“I heard the Spring High Lord left your room just before.”

Minho wasn’t sure if he should be angry his father had people spying on him again, or if he should be afraid for what the man would do with such information. Before he could start to form an argument, ready to deny and evade his father’s questioning, the man continued,

“This is great. I’m proud of you.”

Minho’s jaw dropped, “What?

“I’m glad that useless excuse for a High Lord finally has a purpose.” The Night High Lord’s smile was fanatic, Minho already feeling anger boil at his father’s words, “And you made it look so easy too, that Spring kid is all but wrapped around your fingers. I couldn’t have thought of something better myself.”

“I don’t understand...”

“No need to play dumb. I can see it clearly now. My son has always been so smart. It must have been easy to seduce him, he has been following you around like a mutt since you were children.”

Minho’s stomach churned again as he understood what his father was suggesting.

“I can’t say I’ve always agreed about who you spent your time with, but if only you told me sooner what it was all for. A High Lord from a seasonal Court, all under my son’s control. Do whatever you need to to keep him close.”

“That’s not it.” Minho cut in before he could say anymore, “He’s a friend. Nothing more. I’m not going to use him,” The heir spat out the words as if they were poison on his tongue.

His father’s smile dropped, “What do you mean?”

“I mean Jisung is my friend. I wouldn’t compel him if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“But you spend so much time together, what else is he for?”

“Because I care about him.” Minho scoffed, “You’ve seen us over the years, surely you understand what he’s meant to me growing up.”

“But he has no purpose otherwise,” His father sounded completely baffled that Jisung would simply be his friend,

“His purpose is to keep me sane while living in this prison you’ve made of my home, he’s not there for your gain,” Minho finished definitely.

“Your wrong.”

Minho saw the exact moment his father’s temper switched, he could feel it in the way a deafening silence fell over the hall, power filling every free inch of space.

“You will keep that kid close, you will bend him to what we need.”

“No.” Minho stood firm, letting his own power permeate the air. He let many things his father did slide, for fear of the consequences if he stepped in, but he had to draw the line somewhere, and apparently, that line was Jisung. 

“Do not disobey me. You are nothing without me.”

“No,” Minho repeated, stronger this time, “Actually, you are nothing without me, just a sad and lonely High Lord with no one to carry on his legacy. You can’t intimidate me anymore. I’m not a scared naive kid, and I haven’t been for a long time.”

They were shocked to feel Minho’s power as it pushed against the High Lord’s, almost rivalling it in strength. It was at that moment, Minho realised why his father had grown so paranoid in the past six months. His power had started growing exponentially, and if the show tonight was anything to judge, if he did fight his father, he stood a good chance of winning.

They stood in a silent standoff, dark power pulsing and pushing against each other. Testing each other for weakness and only receding once realising how evenly matched they were.

“You’re making a mistake,” The High Lord said as he stepped back, “This is a great opportunity you’re letting go to waste. I’m sure you’ll change your mind once you realise that.”

“I won’t. My friend is not a pawn.”

His father glared one last time, waiting for Minho to back down.

He did not.

“Fine. I’ll leave you tonight, but this is not the last time we’re discussing this.”

Minho bit his tongue to stop himself from saying it’s the last time he was prepared to talk about it, but he figured he’d pushed his luck far enough already that night.

A final huff from the High Lord marked his exit as stormed back down the hall, leaving Minho to sink back against his door. He felt drained.

Over the past year, his father seemed to be slipping, he was never the most pleasant man, but he had become increasingly unbearable for anyone to deal with as of late. Minho was afraid what his lapse in his sanity would lead him to do.

With all the joy from being with Jisung sapped from him, Minho dragged himself back into his room. Changing out of his formal clothes, washing away his stress with a steamy bath and sliding into his bed to see he white lily Jisung had left behind.

Laying in bed, white flower in his palm and surrounded by bedposts coated in Dill, was what finally brought a small smile to his features again.

He knew his father had spoken the truth, he would not drop the topic anytime soon, but Minho was ready to defend what he and Jisung had with every fibre of his being.

***

Minho’s entry into the Spring Court was a lot more graceful and a lot less painful when he winnowed to outside the castle walls, rather than spectacularly bouncing off the wards again. He was already sore enough as it was and didn’t need to add that to the list of things that had gone wrong in the past hour.

It was also with a lot more ease this time that the Spring Guard led him into the palace, only this time he was instructed to stay put in one of the side rooms while they fetched the High Lord.

He was there for not even five minutes before the doors burst open and a troubled looking Jisung barged into the room.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Jisung jumped straight in, not even giving Minho the chance to greet him again.

It had only been a few months since they’d last seen each other at the Grand Court Ball, but the time spent together then had not lessened the longing whenever they were apart.

Minho’s twenty-second birthday was fast approaching, meaning Jisung would also soon turn twenty, and he finally would've had an excuse to visit the Spring Court. But certain events had pushed him there sooner and Minho knew Jisung was expecting the worst.

“Can’t I visit my closest friend?” Minho cocked his head to the side, a cheeky grin on his face.

The Spring High Lord huffed, knowing it was a ruse. Minho wouldn’t have come just to visit, as much as they'd both have liked that to be the case.

“You should know the drill by now, Hannie. To the garden?”

Jisung cleared his throat, giving a pointed look towards the guards in a warning to Minho, “That’s High Lord to you.”

He knew the Fae guarding his palace wouldn’t gossip and share what they saw between the High Lord and Night Lord, but that didn’t make it any less flustering to hear Minho call him such affectionate names in front of others.

“Sorry, High Lord. Won’t happen again.” Minho’s smile broke into giggles he tried to hide, quickly stifling them when the movement made him wince in discomfort. He hoped the younger wouldn’t notice, but Jisung’s eyes hadn’t faltered as they studied the Night heir and he saw the tiny movement as Minho flinched.

They stood in silence studying each other for a long moment. Minho realised Jisung must have already finished his work for the evening. The High Lord was uncharacteristically dressed down. His crown was not in sight and he was wearing a simple loose tunic and cotton pants. Normally, people would not see him in such a state, but the rush with which he entered the room told Minho that he had refused any offerings to dress him up further before coming to see the Night Lord.

Minho was dressed the same as usual. Sharp suit over a crisp dress shirt. His hair was a little more ruffled than usual, but not noticeable to the untrained eye. Jisung was not untrained though, he had spent years watching Minho, learning all he could about the Fae he was hopelessly in love with. He could easily tell Minho was bothered, he could feel the unease coming from the elder in waves. And Jisung knew Minho was aware he could feel it.

With a deep sigh, Jisung spoke up first, “We’re going to go somewhere new today, it’s not the garden exactly, but I think you’ll like it.”

Minho nodded, letting Jisung say a few words to the guards before he gestured for Minho to follow him.

Once they were as alone as they could be in a palace swarming with workers, Jisung dared to ask if Minho would explain what was wrong.

Minho just hummed in response, murmuring nonchalantly, “It’s nothing really. I probably shouldn’t have come. It was just my father being difficult again. I just… needed to escape for a while.”

Jisung nodded as he led them out towards the back of the palace. Minho occasionally let his hand brush against Jisung’s, conveying just how much he missed the High Lord. Jisung returned the gesture, although the Night heir quickly noticed he was more hesitant to touch him.

Once they were outside, rather than entering the extravagant garden, they followed a path that curled around the stone walls of the palace until they reached an area fenced off from the rest of the garden. The fence was created by thick hedging, the intertwined plants hiding completely what was beyond. Jisung threw open the gate and Minho’s eyes were immediately drawn upwards, where half of the area within was shaded with two pergolas, themselves overflowing with flowering plants.

As the sun was already in the process of setting, the courtyard had been set alight with flickering lanterns to create a cosy atmosphere. The highlight of the whole courtyard was what was set within the ground though. Minho’s mouth dropped open in surprise seeing four bubbling hot springs. He couldn’t recall Jisung ever mentioning them before, so he voiced as much.

“They have healing properties,” Jisung explained, “So they’re mostly used by the guards. No one will disturb us here tonight though.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

Jisung gave him a look, and Minho shrunk under that gaze, knowing exactly why Jisung had brought him. “I am the High Lord of the Spring Court, my speciality is healing. You think the lilac of your skin will hide it all, but-” Jisung let his finger’s brush against the back of Minho’s hand again- “I can feel it when I touch you.”

Minho released a shaky breath, easily reading the concern behind Jisung’s words. He’d been holding it together as well as he could in front of the others, but the truth was, his father could have killed him that night. If he was any slower, if his power wasn’t as strong as it was, he would have been wiped out.

As it was, he was aching all over, his whole body was fatigued from the power he’d exerted pushing back against his father, and there was a series of bruises he could feel blossoming across his torso from where he had been knocked into a marble corner.

It was terrifying. He felt like a child again. But also, he could feel his father’s mind slipping further from sanity. That was the most terrifying part of all because he knew there was only one person that could stop the Night High Lord if it came down to it, and it wasn’t any of the Illyrians.

Minho’s voice cracked when he said, “I didn’t know who else to go to. I couldn’t let Changbin see me like this, and I didn’t want to be alone.”

Jisung carefully brought Minho into his arms, being wary of all the parts that ached, “You’re always welcome here. No one needs to know why, and if they ask, we’ll figure it out, okay?”

Minho nodded, his head was tucked into Jisung’s shoulder. It was very rare for Jisung to be the one consoling Minho, but he was the only one who could. He was the only one who could see the deepest parts of Minho, the parts hidden away ever since he was forced to grow up too young and learnt it was better to pretend to feel nothing rather than admit weakness.

Not even Changbin was privy to all the side of Minho that Jisung got to see.

“I’m going to take these off you,” Jisung said quietly, pulling gently on Minho’s clothes.

The Night heir drew back and helped Jisung ease the stiff material off his tired limbs. With no one else around, Minho was quick to drop his ever-present smirk, face falling neutral as he tried not to cry out when Jisung lifted his arms to remove his undershirt.

Minho heard the second Jisung’s breath caught when he saw the dark splotches likely already forming along his ribs, “It’s okay, I don’t think any of them are broken.” He could tell from the look on Jisung’s face that the reassurance fell on deaf ears.

“You’ve been bleeding.”

“Oh?” Minho looked down, realising there was in fact a gash under his left arm. He could just see it from where it wrapped around to his back. The wound had already clotted over. The blood must have been hidden in his black shirt and suit. It explained why it hurt so much to remove his shirt, lifting his arms pulling more at the scab.

Continuing down his body, Jisung remained tight-lipped as he removed Minho’s pants. He hesitated a moment, blushing high on his cheeks before he quickly pulled off the undergarments as well.

If his chest wasn’t aching now that all the adrenaline had left his body, Minho for sure would have been making a crass comment and laughing at Jisung’s innocence.

Once the Night heir was completely bare, Jisung led him over to the lip of the closest hot spring. The springs were made from dark stone, all roughly the same in size, and each could easily fit six Fae within. There was steam wafting from them, gently bubbling away with a slightly unnatural blue hue.

Minho hissed as the hot water hit his tender skin, Jisung keeping hold of his arm to support him until he was fully seated. He could feel it almost instantly, the way the steamy water released the tension in his shoulder and drew the fatigue from his muscles.

He felt Jisung’s hands on him too, rubbing down his arms and pressing into his aching limbs. It was soothing, the moan leaving his mouth unconsciously as Jisung’s fingers dug into the knots buried under his skin.

To shake off the embarrassment of making such a sound, Minho called out, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a High Lord giving a massage before,”

Jisung kneaded harder, making Minho yelp, “I know you’re trying to lighten the mood, but I am worried about you, Minho. You need to tell me what happened.”

Sulking, Minho sank lower in the water until it reached his chin. He knew Jisung was being reasonable, and he could hear the worry in his voice, but he still struggled to try to get the words out. “Okay,” He eventually relented, “I’ll tell you.”

Jisung kept quiet while Minho recounted what had happened that night.

It started from the moment his father came storming up to his room, complaining about the way his son had acted in council that day.

Minho explained how his father was making rash decisions, taxing the poor and letting those in the country towns starve while those in the city thrived, and he had fought those decisions every step of the way.

He spoke how his father’s rage had been building ever since the night of the ball, where he had tried to get him to use Jisung for his own good. The High Lord was shocked by this, how Minho had been dealing with it by himself for the past few months.

His voice grew quiet as he said his father had started a fight right in the hallway outside his bedroom. The guards had no chance of stopping it the second the Night High Lord tried to blast him through a wall. How he only survived because he’d blocked in time, but had been knocked into the marble nonetheless.

He explained how the second his body hit the floor, his father snapped out of his blinding rage and switched to his normal apathetic self instead. The Night High Lord only watched with a sneer as Minho picked himself up off the floor, body shaking with adrenaline and fear.

He told of how his father had called him nothing but a disappointment, how he would never be strong enough or smart enough to rule the Court. The man walked away without looking back just as Soojin ran into the hall followed by a handful of guards. She looked between the two confused, eyes growing even more concerned as his father passed her, saying, _that boy is not my son_.

Jisung’s hands tightened on Minho as he recalled how Soojin tried to console him, seeing how he was breaking at the seams. She tried to reason that it would pass and that his father does love him. Minho said how he knew otherwise. Then, with her protesting the whole time, he said he had to get out of the Night Palace for the night.

Finally, he passed a worried Changbin who had only just reached the scene having been on his night off. The Illyrian bravely held Soojin back and told her to let Minho go, which she refused again, saying running away to another Court would not solve the problems in his own, and that he should stay and talk with her. But he was already gone, winnowing to the place that had started to feel more like a home than his own Court.

With the tale told, Minho felt much more relaxed, although that might have had to do with the hot springs. Jisung remained quiet once he had finished his retelling, absorbing all the information and processing it. Slowly, he asked the only burning question on his tongue, “Are you safe there?”

Minho nodded halfheartedly, “Yes. He knows he can’t actually beat me. He was just making sure I knew my place tonight.”

“Okay. If you think you’re safe there, I won’t push you to come here.”

“I couldn’t leave there anyway, they’re my people. If I leave them with him, he’ll destroy the Court within the month.”

Jisung sighed heavily, “I understand. I know what it’s like to have a whole Court depending on you.”

“I’m sorry.” Minho turned to Jisung, the younger was sitting cross-legged at the hot spring edge, his hands still resting on Minho’s skin, “I know you have just as many problems, I never meant to dump my troubles on you.”

“Never apologise for seeking me out. You know I’ll do whatever I can to help ease your worries, just like you do the same for me.”

“I know,” Minho hummed, pressing a kiss to the back of one of Jisung’s hands before he sank back down in the water again, “I’m also sorry for never telling you about how he thought I was using you all this time, I just figured it was something to discuss in person.”

“It's okay. I would never think you’re using me.”

Minho wanted to cry then. He had never had someone have so much trust in him before. He didn’t have the proper words to express just how much Jisung meant to him, so he settled for, “Thank you,” Said with so much earnest, “For everything.”

Jisung squeezed his shoulders, “And thank you for having the courage to come to me.”

Feeling so much better already, only the scab along his left side remained, and Minho decided he’d had enough talk about Court politics for the night, “Can we- can we not talk about this again tonight? I want to just enjoy you for you.”

“Of course,” Jisung smiled, even though Minho couldn’t see it, “I don’t see why should waste our time talking about grouchy old High Lords when I have a naked Night heir sitting here under my touch. Especially one with a large graze on his side that I need to heal.”

“You shouldn’t waste your magic on me,” Minho protested, rising from his seat to move away, “I heal fast.”

“Yeah, and I heal faster.” Jisung grabbed him before he could flee, “Now stand still, lift your arm and shut up.”

“Yes, High Lord.” Minho laughed, moving back to his place and bowing to Jisung’s word.

Jisung’s face was red, eyes trying not to stray too far down Minho’s naked form as he knelt on the lip of the springs, studying the extent of the gash along his side.

He relished in the feeling of Jisung’s hand teasing low on his body, magic teasing along his ribs, drawing the broken skin together until he could only see a fine scar in the gash’s previous place. It filled him with overwhelming warmth, even more calming than the heat of the hot springs. The feeling was so unbelievably Jisung that he melted at the touch.

“Ugh,” He exclaimed, dazed and sinking dreamily back into his seat when Jisung took his hands off the healed skin. He couldn’t believe all the pain was already leeched from his body, “Bond with me.”

Only when Jisung froze behind him, did he realise his words, flushing as red as Jisung.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“It's okay.” Jisung ducked his head, moving his hands back to Minho’s shoulders, the skin now flaming under his touch, “I would you know, bond with you. If we could, of course.”

Minho smiled at Jisung's confession, whispering back, “I’d bond with you too, in a heartbeat.”

Sharing a soft look of understanding, the tense atmosphere quickly dispersed, and they fell back into their usual comfortable companionship. Minho was trying to convince Jisung to join him in the hot springs and the High Lord was protesting, just dipping his legs in from where he was still seated behind the Night heir. They were both just absorbing the calm atmosphere, the steamy air and dim lighting making everything feel cosy.

Jisung’s fingers had moved into Minho’s hair, working out the tangles between the tousled brown strands. Minho could almost feel himself drifting off to sleep when Jisung’s nails grazed down one of his horns. His eyes flew open immediately, a shiver tingling down his spine at the sensation.

With Jisung sitting behind him, the High Lord’s legs caging Minho’s shoulders as he kicked his feet happily back and forth, reminding him of his magnetic presence, it was impossible for the Night heir to avoid the rush of heat the sensation brought upon him. Before he could even respond to the sudden rush of endorphins, Jisung fingers were back on the plum-coloured keratin, scratching lightly and rubbing on the pointed ends.

“Jisung,” Minho said slowly, somewhere between a warning and a groan,

“What?”

Minho couldn’t see his face, but he knew Jisung was smirking. “Are you sure you want to play that game?”

Jisung’s fingers didn’t stop their movements, running the pads up and down Minho’s horns the whole time he spoke, “I don’t know what game you’re referring too,”

The Night heir scoffed, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Then, before Jisung could react, Minho jumped up from his seat, turning enough to slip his arms around the younger’s waist and pull him the rest of the way over the edge of the spring. Jisung squealed, legs kicking up water, as he was dragged to Minho’s body, feeling the heated water soak into his clothes. Minho settled back down, now with Jisung straddling his thighs.

Jisung was pouting down at him, but Minho didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty as he smiled up at the High Lord. The water was weighing down Jisung’s light clothing, sticking tightly to his chest. Minho’s eyes certainly didn’t miss that fact.

Mouth still sulky and fingers tapping disgruntledly against Minho’s shoulder, Jisung asked, “What now?”

“Now, I kiss you hard enough the guards come running to see what’s got you screaming- Ow”

Despite the burning in his shoulder where Jisung had punched him, Minho still laughed heartily as Jisung squirmed in his lap. The High Lord seemed to have just realised that Minho was still naked and was trying his hardest to not jostle anything where he was seated in Minho’s lap.

“You shy, Hannie?”

Jisung rolled his eyes, voice challenging, “You horny just from seeing me wet?”

Minho winked up at him, “And if I am?”

Jisung stooped down, mouth resting next to his ear, adoring as he felt Minho shiver, voice low as he said, “Then that makes two of us.”

The Night heir groaned, pulling Jisung as far forward as he could, pressing their hips together while he found the younger’s lips. Jisung was waiting, mouth open and teasing tongue ready to tangle with Minho’s in a kiss that lacked any class whatsoever. This was one of desperation, letting the past few months of longing and the negativity from the day be doused and ravaged by the flames of desire.

Minho could spend hours with Jisung on his tongue and never grow tired. He could let Jisung map out his body, slim fingers tracing every groove and bump in his skin until the end of time. He could bite at Jisung’s collarbones every day and never get used to the way his body ignited at the high whines Jisung cried.

Minho wished he could whisper how much he loved Jisung into kisses for centuries to come, but they could only spend so many minutes in the hot spring, skin turning wrinkled in the steaming water. The water that was doing nothing to cool the flames between them and doing everything to make their want burn brighter, foreheads dotted with sweat as the heat encircled them.

Jisung pulled away first, his hands still cupping tightly the sides of Minho’s face. He didn’t move far, making sure they still shared airspace. Minho could see the younger’s eyes boring into him, making him feel like they were all that mattered in the world.

And at that moment, they were.

If he could wish for one thing only, it would be to never have to leave Jisung’s side. There was nothing that felt more right in the world than having Jisung with him, by his side or pressed to his skin. He didn’t think he could ever love someone so wholly, but Jisung proved him wrong. It was as easy as breathing to fall into Jisung’s orbit, and he begged the Gods above with everything he had that one day he would know what it felt like to be with Jisung, bonded and joined as one. 

Minho’s mouth moved down towards Jisung’s neck again, but before the younger’s eyes could slip shut so he could enjoy every single sensation of Minho’s possessive tongue on his skin, he realised there was an eruption of small shrubs around them.

The plants were sprouting from between cracks in the stone, containing tiny white clusters of flowers.

The Night heir pulled back when Jisung froze in his lap, head cocked in question before he realised what a blushing younger was looking at, “What are they?”

“Lime blossoms,”

Minho’s brows furrowed further at the unfamiliar flower, “What do they symbolize?”

Jisung shifted on Minho’s lap, face glowing red as he said meekly “Fornication.”

“Ah,” Minho flushed too, trying to read Jisung’s nervous change, “We don’t have to do anything now.”

Jisung’s eyes finally met his, still burning just as strongly as they were a minute again, “And if I want to?”

Minho thought he may have actually melted, limbs failing him at Jisung’s words. He refused to show just how nervous he was too, knowing the younger needed his confidence. But he couldn’t shake the worry that he might hurt Jisung, that he wouldn’t be good enough, that Jisung would decide he was making a mistake.

Steeling himself, Minho said, “If that’s the case, then I want to do this properly. I want you to be as comfortable as possible. I want to take you to your room, where I will help clean and prepare you slowly, and then when you think you can’t hold back any longer, I take you to your bed and have you for as long as you’ll let me.”

Jisung dropped his head, nose pressing into Minho’s shoulder as his body shuddered, “Then what are you waiting for?”

*

Minho was still unbelievably gentle as he carried Jisung from the bathroom and placed him onto his back on the large bed. He continued from where he had left off, opening the High Lord with careful movements that left the younger shaking in excitement and overwhelming arousal.

Minho couldn’t believe the splendid sight in front of him, Jisung’s eyes tightly closed as he let out little puffs of air, body squirming and cheeks flushed red. His hair was splayed out around him in a golden halo, some strands glued to his forehead with sweat. Minho’s gaze flicked up and down to take in everything he could of Jisung, spread out tantalisingly bare before him. His eyes followed the blissed-out face to where his fingers were teasing in and out of the younger’s entrance.

“You good?” Minho asked, teasing his third finger along Jisung’s rim.

“Do it,” The younger nodded, eyes opening enough to follow Minho’s arm from where it disappeared under him up to the crimson eyes locked on his face, “Please.”

Minho followed his plead, stretching out Jisung slowly as he could, running his hands all over the High Fae body to try and soothe the burn. The High Lord whimpered every so often, but it wasn’t an unwelcomed pain, his hardened dick twitching every so often and leaking a puddle of clear fluid onto his stomach as Minho grazed against his prostate was a testament to that.

He had built up a solid rhythm, fingers moving in and out of Jisung slowly but steadily, curving upwards as he pulled back and dragging along the engorged nerves that made Jisung shake.

Minho was rutting forward in anticipation too, his hips thrusting into the air on their own accord. 

Jisung’s hand shot out, holding Minho’s wrist still, and his whole body gave another tremble, stomach clenching tight, “I’m close. Do it now. I’m ready.”

“You sure?”

The High Lord nodded.

“You still wanna be on top?”

He nodded again.

“Okay, let me help you then.”

Jisung’s body shook as Minho helped guide him into position. His arms were almost as shaky as the High Lord’s with his own excitement.

Jisung kept his hands on Minho’s chest while the Night heir lined himself up against Jisung’s rim. He rubbed the head teasingly against Jisung twice before easing the High Lord down, just enough to feel as his tip pushed through the first ring of muscle.

Minho groaned the second he entered Jisung, hands flying to steady the younger’s hips instead. The tight heat was so encompassing his body jolted at the pleasure shooting through his system. It had been a couple of years since he’d last had sex, but it shouldn’t have left him feeling so overly sensitive as Jisung sunk down further.

He could feel Jisung contracting over him, body so impossibly tight as he carefully rocked his hips down. Jisung’s mouth was hanging open, gulping down air as he concentrated on the feeling overwhelming his body.

Minho was much the same, lips a tight line, breathing harshly through his nose as he tried not to lose it too soon when Jisung rolled his hips in a teasing circle.

Finally, after tortuously slow movements, Minho let out a sigh of relief as he bottomed out inside Jisung. The younger’s hands had started scrabbling against Minho’s chest, nails biting crescents into his skin as he squirmed where he was seated.

Every subtle shift of Jisung’s hips jostled Minho inside him, and the Night heir was losing it as the sensations continued to shoot fire along his nerves.

Carefully, Jisung rolled his hips, all but crying as his body shuddered through the overpowering sensation.

“You okay?”

Jisung just nodded at the question, too far gone to do more but whine. Minho could only help try to guide his hips slowly and hope the younger would stick to his word and tell him if it was too much.

Minho rubbed soothing circles into the High Lord’s skin to try and dispel some of the tightness in his muscles, his whole body was coiled like a spring, waiting to go off in the Night heir’s lap.

Before he could pry more out of the younger, he felt Jisung’s body shaking again. Thin hips gave a solid thrust down onto him and Minho gasped at the sudden rough movement. His eyes widened in worry as he watched Jisung immediately curl in on himself, a silent scream on his lips as his body spasmed.

It was only when Jisung lifted his head that Minho registered the warmth that had shot onto his skin, Jisung’s cum spreading across his abdomen.

“Sorry,” Jisung said shakily, still panting from the sudden orgasm, ashamed tears in his eyes.

Minho reached up to cup his face, thinking to himself, _adorable._ “You did well.”

Jisung sniffled, “But I...”

“That just means I did my job right and you felt good. You don’t have to be embarrassed doing that on your first time.”

Minho pulled Jisung down on top of him, moving his lips against Jisung’s gently and he rubbed his hands along the dips of the younger’s back, letting the aftershocks fade and Jisung’s exhausted form all but collapse on top of him.

“Would you like me to stop here?” Minho whispered against the crown of Jisung’s head once the younger had settled with his nose pressed into Minho’s shoulder.

The High Lord shifted, feeling Minho throb from where he was still buried inside, and still most certainly very hard.

“It’s alright,” Jisung whispered, “You can finish inside me.”

Minho groaned at his words, “You’re not too sensitive?”

Jisung shook his head, pulling back and slipping off his lap. Minho giggled when Jisung made a cute little disgruntled noise as he felt Minho’s dick slip out of him, rolling onto his back with his limbs spread awaiting for Minho to take up the invitation.

The Night heir didn’t wait to settle himself on top of the High Lord, rutting between Jisung’s ass cheeks as he held the younger close, kissing him like it was his last. He was pressed to as much of Jisung as was physically possible, feeling Jisung’s cum stick to both their bodies as he kept rubbing against the High Lord slowly.

Once he was sure Jisung had settled enough after his orgasm, he carefully lined himself back up, never breaking the kiss and keeping Jisung held close and he pushed back into him again.

Jisung gasped and groaned against his lips, but Minho only felt him holding tighter, nails clawing against the strong muscles over his shoulders and legs locking behind his back.

Minho could feel sweat prickling along his forehead, neck and trailing a line down the divet of his spine, not just from the perpetual heat of Spring court, but mostly from the immense heat of the young High Lord, warm skin pressed to warm skin as he buried himself into Jisung over and over again.

Eventually, he had given up on trying to maintain the kiss, his forehead was pressed to the pillow besides Jisung’s head instead. The High Lord took the chance to pepper whatever lilac skin above he could reach with encouraging pecks and bites.

Jisung was hard again, one of his hands between them, palming himself off while Minho maintained his firm and deep thrusts.

“Close,” Minho groaned into Jisung’s shoulder,

Jisung hummed, hand picking up its pace over himself, his body jolting and a moan punched from his throat with every strong push of Minho’s hips forward. The Night heir was pressing him so deeply into the mattress he thought Minho and him might have moulded into one.

Minho could feel himself shuddering now, hips starting to lose rhythm as he was so close to his high.

“You can still come in me,” Jisung reassured, hand locking in Minho’s hair as the Night heir grew rough, pushing Jisung up the bed every time he slammed forward.

It took three more thrusts before Minho groaned hoarsely, hands holding Jisung’s hips still so he could push himself as deep as possible and release his load. His throat was burning from the way he’d been panting and groaning, but it was nothing compared to the ecstasy that flooded his system. He was sure his vision would have blacked out if his eyes weren’t already shut.

Once his dick was spent, he gave a few weak thrusts to finish off the aftershocks, meanwhile, he felt Jisung tighten over him one last time and come again.

Very carefully, he pulled out of the High Lord, and rested on his haunches, taking a moment to watch as his seed dribbled out of the twitching hole before letting the younger’s limb fall haphazardly onto the bed.

“I’m dead,” Jisung croaked, he was laying spread-eagle and panting. “Not even enough energy for a single flower,” he pointed out, noticing the surprising lack of flowers encompassing the bed.

Minho laughed at the completely dazed look on Jisung’s face. “Love you too,” He responded, watching the fond smile break onto Jisung’s face that most likely matched his own. “Now let me wash you down properly so we can both sleep.”

Jisung pouted but was too exhausted to protest as Minho took him in his arms again, albeit shakier than the start of the night, and deposited him into the bathtub.

He was careful as he poured heated water over Jisung’s sensitive skin, being especially careful as he helped clean him out, apologizing for the mess he made.

The High Lord just pushed him off, flustered, and saying it was fine because he enjoyed it.

Once they had both been cleaned up, Minho removed the soiled blanket from the bed and collected the High Lord again.

Sinking into the soft mattress, Minho watched fondly as it took only a minute for Jisung to curl into a ball and let sleep take over. He pressed his chest to Jisung’s back, throwing an arm over his middle and tangling his legs with the younger’s. He fell asleep to the faint scent of jasmine and blond hair tickling his nose.

*

The next morning they tried to be as inconspicuous as possible while Jisung sent Minho on his way, although the content glow that hovered around them was probably a giveaway. That and the burning longing already filling their eyes as they said their goodbyes.

Jisung held both of Minho’s hands tightly clasped between his own as he warned Minho to be careful back in the Night Court, and if he was ever worried about his father he was welcome whenever to take refuge in the Spring Court.

The Night heir thanked him for calming his worries and promised him he would stay safe before pulling away and making the journey back to his home.

For the first time, Minho left the spring court without a flower hidden in his pocket, instead, he held a symbolic one in his heart, and Jisung’s flower was the sweetest of them all.

One he would savour in days to come when everything else turned against him.

***


	4. A Thank You for Endless Inspiration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gift of artwork depicting the Night and Spring Lords.

If you follow any of my other works, you'd know I posted 'Soft', a Changlix work, for a friend in and art trade-off of sorts. This was her gift to me, which happily turned into two artworks when I told her how her Fae artwork had inspired me to write a whole storyline about Minsung.

Credit goes to [Tazbrianna](https://www.instagram.com/tazbrianna/) on Ig.


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